


With Liberty and Justice

by hundreddollarlarry



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Lincoln Lives, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:12:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hundreddollarlarry/pseuds/hundreddollarlarry
Summary: Clarke's Junior year was supposed to be easy, or at least as easy as it could be for the President's daughter. But now she has to deal with her brooding ex-Secret Service member shadow and threats to her life from a stalker she thought she got rid of. Shocking truths are reveled everyday. She eventually finds that the one person she can count on is the person she hates the most.Bellamy's post Secret Service life is supposed to be easy. He has a good relationship with his sister, a career he's passionate about, and a dog he loves dearly. All of that changes when the Vice President, Marcus Kane, calls one winter morning. Suddenly he's responsible for a spoiled brat who doesn't seem to take her own safety seriously. Little does he know, he's the one that really needs saving.Featuring:Abby Griffin as the President of the United StatesClarke Griffin as the President's daughterMarcus Kane as the Vice PresidentBellamy Blake as an ex-Secret Service memberRaven Reyes a college student as cool as alwaysFinn Collins as a deranged stalkerNate Miller as Bellamy's business partnerOctavia Blake as slightly saner than usualAnd Lincoln as still alive





	1. Chapter 1

     Clarke pinches her nose trying to rid herself of her blistering headache. The kind she always finds herself with every year during the State of the Union. Typically, she’s up by her mother, seated in the same place the first spouse would normally sit, wearing her nicest dress gifted to her by some big name designer. Looking gorgeous and made up and happy to be there. Luckily for her, that wasn’t tonight’s plan.

     Tonight, President Griffin wanted to make a statement. Instead of the usual Vice President and the Speaker of the House, the people behind her are victims of gun violence. The same kind of senseless bloodshed that killed her husband, a decorated CIA agent, Jake Griffin, three years ago, also shaped their lives for the worst. Clarke’s not seated far away. But for once she's far enough away to be out of the spotlight. It’s enough to be free of her normal routine of sitting up too straight and hopeful eyes at her mother. It’s one of the few reliefs she’s going to get tonight.

     It’s not that she isn’t proud. She's so proud her mother is the President of the United States. Sometimes she can’t even believe it herself. She's going on her second year in the White House by her mother’s side. As Abby’s only surviving family, Clarke took on a miniature role of the First Lady while still maintaining her position as the first daughter. But despite constantly being around each other they were just as close and as distant as ever. 

     Clarke tried to be there for her mother in every way a child could. But tonight President Abby Griffin had to stand with the real people who won her the election, the American victims of gun violence. And funny enough, to her mother she’s not one of them.

     Clarke sits there, listening to her mom’s speech, resigning herself to her headache. Her mom, no doubt, changed after becoming President. She became more closed off, harder to read, and in many ways, less kind. All great qualities for the President to have. Not such great qualities to have in a mom. Clarke found herself wondering if she really even cared about the people sitting behind her. 

     Realizing her own train of thought painted her mother into a monster, she sucks in a quick breath. Just then, Vice President Kane places his hand on her knee and mouths, “you okay?”

     Clarke nods sharply and quickly averts her attention back towards her mother. She is disgusted with herself that she even thought anything so horrible of her mother. Clarke knows the death of her father was just as hard on her mom if not harder, then it was on her. The grief coupled with the responsibility and weight of her position is unfathomable to Clarke. If she was in her mother’s shoes, she’s pretty sure she would’ve been crushed by the weight a long time ago.

     Not too long after, the crowd starts clapping as loud cheering erupts in the chamber. Clarke begins to clap too. She notices a few of the faces behind her mother are crying while smiling. Their smiles are so genuine. They believe in her. It makes Clarke want to believe in her more too. Which she guesses was the point of having them up there in the first place. She’s smart enough to understand the real motivation at play here.

     After the crowd clears out, Clarke, Abby and Kane attend an after party. Most of the congressional leaders and senators are there schmoozing the gun violence victims. Their eyes find her mother and shine. They’re obviously thrilled to be here especially on behalf of the President.

     “I thought you were going to wear that blue dress we picked out earlier,” Abby says, cutting through Clarke's thoughts, as walking through the crowded room.

     She decided go with a crisp white fitted suit dress with cap sleeves that hits just above the knee. Much to her mother’s dismay apparently. Clarke found the white number was more classy and grown up than the blue A-line her mother liked. “I thought this one was better suited for the event,” Clarke answers without looking towards her mother.

     “Mmm,” Abby begins, “I always did like blue on you the best.” Clarke bites her tongue, literally. It’s not like her mom ever follows her advice. After all, Abby’s out here in black, not a purple dress  like they agreed earlier. Clarke specifically told her mother not to wear the black gown tonight. She told her it would look too mournful. At the time, Abby agreed the sparkly dark purple one would be better. Looks like someone overruled their conversation, yet again. 

     “I think Clarke looks lovely tonight,” Kane interjects before the conversation can turn ugly. He has a knack for deescalating conflicts. Clarke is sure it’s is part of the reason Abby picked him for VP. 

     “Thank you Vice President Kane,” Clarke says smiling a little too brightly towards him. “I will leave you two to it then.” She drops the smile to nod at Abby, “Mom,” she says before swiftly making her escape away from the crowd. 

  Kane and Abby walk towards the center of the room finding their contemporaries while Clarke shuffles towards the drink table and then to the outer edge of the ballroom. A few Senators come up and speak with her, mostly about how much they miss her mom, but how they know she’s got a bigger, more important job than all of them. Eventually, she finds herself talking to a cute dirty blonde staffer close to her own age. The conversation eases smoothly and Clarke finds herself able to talk about something besides politics with someone in the Capital for what feels like the first time in months. 

     When the conversation eventually fizzles down with the staffer, Harper, Clarke’s learned, she quietly excuses herself to go find her mother. It’s getting late and Clarke has school tomorrow, and it’s not considered model behavior for the President’s daughter to skip class.

     Later that night, Clarke finds herself lying in bed scrolling through her various, extremely private, social media accounts. Not that she doesn’t have public ones for campaign purposes, but she like to keep somethings private. Her personal Instagram account has 16 followers. All friends who agreed to have their accounts set to private as well. Her Facebook is a ghost account with about the same amount of friends. It’s not the ideal, but she understands why it has to be like this. 

     She texts Raven, not expecting an answer. She knows full well her industrious best friend is probably tinkering with her refrigerator trying to get it to turn into a heater or a killer robot or something like that. To her surprise she texts back right away. 

_Somethings up. Can I call you?_

      Raven’s message sets Clarke off immediately and she presses the phone icon to call her instead of replying. Raven answers before she even hears a full ring.

     “Hey,” Raven’s voice greets her.

     “Hey, you okay?” Clarke chokes out.

     “Yeah I am. Hold on one second-“ Raven replies. Clarke hears clanging and metal crinkling for a minute before her friend’s breath is back. “Hey.” she repeats. 

     “Hey, what did you just do? Rebuild the phone?” Clarke asks. 

     “Yeah,” Raven laughs, but it’s strained. “No, but I had to try something, and when in doubt use the ol tinfoil method.”

     “What happened tonight Rae?”

     “Clarke-“ Raven begins then takes a deep breath. “Finn was at the same bar I was tonight.”

     At the mention of his name Clarke feels her blood run cold. “Did he come looking for you?” She whispers.

     “I don’t think so. I think I just happened to be in the same place as him. Not many bars in Georgetown are quiet enough to watch the State of the Union on their TV but Fred’s is.” She explains.

     “So you were there to watch my mom?” Clarke questions.

     “Well don’t sell yourself short Clarke. I was also there to get a glimpse of you on the TV since I fried mine.” Raven attempted to make some new contraption out of her TV. It was so old it came with the antena, so it’s probably for the best it found some use with her.

     “Okay so, you saw Finn there,” Clarke repeats. “Did he see you?”

     The other line is quiet for a good 10 seconds. “Yeah. He saw me.”

     “Oh,”

     “He was watching the TV too... also waiting to see you I’m sure.”

     Clarke really hates the added ‘I’m sure’ Raven used. Raven’s never been one to embellish, so she knows he had to make it obvious in some way or another. 

     Raven continues, “After the camera panned to you and Kane for a shot, Finn looked around the bar. That’s when he saw me.”

      “And?” Clarke wants her to get to the real meat of the story. The details are making her sick. 

     “He approached me. Asked me if we’re still cool,” she laughs, cold. Raven’s entire relationship with Finn ended after he cheated on her in high school. “I know he checks the tabloids, he knows we’re still friends. He just wanted an in. I didn’t lie, Clarke. I shook my head that we were...I’m sorry if that wasn’t the right response. I just didn’t know what else to do. He told me you looked beautiful up there.,” her friend adds, her tone showing how much she hated hearing that from him. “I don’t think the restraining order you have on him is gonna deter him anymore. You gotta tell your mom, or Kane, or fuck I don’t know! Maybe your secret service guys? You need to tell Monroe. Just tell somebody. I need you to stay safe.” Raven’s voice cracks on the phone. That alone shakes her.

     Clarke jumps out of bed, choosing to stay on the line with her. She reassures her friend that she has the best security team out there and they're near at all times. The idea of the Secret Service normally angered her, mostly because she hasn't known what it's like to be alone in public since her mom took office. But right now, it's about the only real comfort she has. The sicko who never left her alone after one stupid night is back. Clarke wonders if anywhere in the city, or even in the country, is safe. She stays on the line with Raven as she searches for Kane. He’s the only one in the whole White House who ever takes her seriously. 

  Thankfully, she finds Kane within minutes, still in his suit. He’s emerging from the kitchen carrying two glasses of water headed towards the library. Clarke almost collides into him, jostling one of the drinks slightly, spilling water onto the floor. Clarke murmurs an apology but it’s overshadowed by Kane immediately noticing something is very wrong.

     Clarke tells Raven she’s found Kane and let’s her know she’ll call her back when she can. With that she hangs up and Kane escorts her into the nearest room complete with a desk, a couch, and her mother. Clarke chooses to stand, not sure her legs would even work well enough to sit down.

     “What happened? Are you alright?” Kane holds her shoulders as she tries to breathe deeply, staring at the floor. Abby is on her feet in an instant.

     “Clarke? What's going on?” It’s her mother's voice asking now. Kane steps aside as Abby grabs her hand. "Clarke?" Abby asks again with a look of confusion directed at her daughter. 

     Clarke looks in her eyes and says, “Finn Collins,” she says with a shaky breath, “he’s back mom. Raven saw him around school, probably looking for me.” Abby stays composed but Clarke can clearly see the anger in her eyes. 

    Kane adjusts himself uncomfortably in the corner. "Clarke? Is it okay if I tell Marcus about what happened?" Abby asks. Clarke slowly nods her head. 

    "When Clarke was 17, she went to party one of her friends from school was throwing. Almost everyone at her school was the child of a politician so I didn't think anything of it," Abby starts to justify, but quickly pauses and redirects herself. "One of Clarke's male classmates, Finn," Abby tersely spits out his name, "was there too. I guess the kids would say they 'hooked up.' They talked for a few days after, then Clarke found out he had a girlfriend and ended it immediately.

    "He didn't like that," Clarke adds, both startling and silencing Abby. Clarke moves her attention to Kane, "I told him there was nothing between us and that he had a girl who loved him. I told him that he should've been happy with her. But he said he was in love with me instead. After one night. He broke up with her, with Raven," she shakes her head in disbelief, "I still said no, that I had moved on. That's when he started becoming different. He started following me everywhere. Stopping me in the hallway, in the courtyard, even on the street. I told him so many times to stay away and to leave me alone. He said he wanted what we had back. He just never stopped. Not until we got the restraining order-" she cuts off, looking at her mom, unsure of what to say next. 

     “Clarke,” her mother reaches out like she’s going to comfort her, but pulls back last minute. Abby’s eyes flick over to Kane. He takes it as his cue to leave them alone for the time being. They both know he’s going to up the security around the White House tonight. 

     After assuring her mom she'll be okay, Clarke retreats back to her room. She paces up and down her wooden floors. She wonders who has walked these floors before her. The children of former great Presidents for sure, who all went on to do great things with their great lives. And now she roams these floors aimlessly, afraid of what a barely 20 year old boy might do to her if he finds her. It makes her sick. She didn't even feel this way when she initially had to file the restraining order against him. Back then, it felt like a simple problem in a complicated life solved with the strike of a Judge's black pen. Now she finally understands, this is an issue that can't be solved legally. 

    After pacing for what feels like hours, Clarke retires to her bed and stares up at the celling dreaming of a way she can solve this. Not a single solution comes.

 

* * *

  

     Bellamy pauses taking a long look at the number displayed on his phone screen before he answers. He clears his throat.

     “Vice President Kane,” he says as diplomatically as he can as he flips his phone open. His dog starts pulling on her leash, but his grip is stronger than her and she knows that. She eventually slows her pace to match his. 

     “Bellamy,” Kane acknowledges, “I hope I’ve found you well.” 

     Annoyed, he replies, “You could say that.” He’s in no mood to play political games this early in the morning. He’s in no mood for government antics, ever really. Bellamy knows how this works, no one in power ever actually gives a shit about how he’s been. 

     He hears Kane chuckle, “I’m glad. We have a bit of a situation here though.” Bellamy sobers at the thought. After all this time, Kane is the only politician he doesn’t completely despise. Still, he doesn’t back down easy.

     “That’s not my problem. You know I quit the service. You were there when I turned my badge and weapon in to Director Miller.” He leaves the rest left unsaid.  

     “I was. And I understand why you had to leave, Bellamy. Jasper was a good cadet. I miss him, I can only begin to imagine how much you do too.” Despite himself, he believes Kane. The loss of Jasper did something to both Bellamy and Nate Miller, the director’s son. They left shortly after.  

     Kane’s voice breaks through his memory. “I know Bellamy. And I know you started your own security detail company. That’s why I’m contacting you now. I want to hire you for a job.” 

     Bellamy stops walking again, and Juno starts whining. But he can’t hear her over the sound of his own blood rushing in his head. “A job?” He questions after a long moment.

     “Yes,” Kane begins after a pause, “one that is very personal to both the President and I.”

      Personal to politicians is normally a laughable word. To them, personal might mean a valuable asset or a special project they want the public to believe they truly care about. But something in Kane’s voice tells him it is actually personal. And something very important to him.

    He takes a minute to ground himself. The early morning sun is just beginning to crest over the horizon, warming his face. He’s always been an early riser, and he likes getting Juno’s walk in before the rest of civilization wakes up. Kane must’ve remembered. He had always been a morning person too. 

     “I’m listening,” Bellamy answers.

     “Good, because I want to ask you to meet me at my old Brownstone by the capital building and we’ll discuss it further there. I’ll see you in an hour.” And with that Kane hangs up. 

     Bellamy knows he’s already essentially agreed to the mission when he didn’t flat out deny the VP’s request. He curses and flips his burner phone shut before throwing it on the ground and crushing it under his boot. He doesn’t know how Kane got his number, but he’s not surprised by it. 

     He jogs back to his house and opens up a new phone. He texts Octavia to let her know he's going to be assessing a potential client. He doesn't give her any more information. She doesn’t for it. She trusts him enough, even if she doesn’t know all of the details.

     He meets Kane exactly an hour after his phone call; maintaining the air of professionalism. His brownstone is just how he remembers it. The four story building is as unremarkable, but as neatly kept as ever. After he’s let into the house he’s escorted to Kane’s location in his study. Kane is standing behind the desk with his back turned to Bellamy, staring at a filled bookcase. 

     “I’m glad you decided to meet with me Bellamy,” Kane says still not looking at him. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually come.” He finishes turning to face him and sets a glass with a dark liquid down on his desk. 

     “Yeah well, it would be stupid not to.” Bellamy says nonchalantly. That gets a smile out of Kane.

   “You’re probably right. At least I’d like to think so. Please,” Kane gestures his hand towards the wingback chairs in front of his desk, “have a seat.”

     Bellamy obeys. He could play a harder but there’s no sense in it. They’ve both seen each other at their weakest points. They know who the other is at the end of the day. 

     “What’s the mission, Kane?” Bellamy asks once seated, forgoing the formalities. He hears the sharp intake of breath from the S.S. agents behind him, but he keeps his expression firm and neutral. 

     That too makes Kane smile. “You haven’t changed much Bellamy,” Bellamy almost growls at that. He didn’t come here to be psychoanalyzed. Kane continues, “I need you to work as Miss Griffin’s private security detail. We’ve recently been made aware of a threat against her. So, I want you to go everywhere she goes. Dressed in plainclothes, like what you’ve got on now. You need to be her shadow until we know she’s safe” 

    “Yeah, but why me?” Bellamy can’t help but ask. 

    “Look, I’m sure we have people fully capable of taking on this job. But I trust you Bellamy. You were one of the best agents I’ve ever known. I trusted you with my life and I knew you’d never let anything happen to me. I need that man back again for one mission.”

     What that the fuck?

    “Sir? You want me to protect the President?” Bellamy questions, fully away of how ridiculous it sounds.

     To his surprise, Kane lets out a belly laugh. Bellamy just sits there with his jaw dropped. “No, I’m sorry Bellamy, I forgot to clarify. Clarke Griffin is the one I need you to protect.” Kane says. 

     “Oh,” Bellamy replies. He remembers her. Her scream after learning that her father was killed is one he could never forget. Plus that same night while he was monitoring the halls of the White House he heard muffled wailing coming from Wells Jaha's room. Through a crack in the door Bellamy saw Wells holding the blonde girl's head as she sobbed into his chest. He recalled relating to that same pain. It had made him glassy eyed after watching it for just half a minute. Bellamy can only begin to wonder what it was like for her after she lost Wells too. Forcing himself back into the present he asks, “What exactly am I protecting her from?” 

     “A fair question,” Kane begins, moving around the space. “She has a stalker. A Mr. Finn Collins. He’s a boy she went to high school with who became infatuated with her. She quietly had a restraining order filed against him once they graduated. It was technically in her mother’s name because Clarke was a minor at the time. It’s recently run out. She tried to get it renewed but the judge felt there was no more imminent danger. He thought the order was more or less ruining opportunities the kid might have in Washington. But the President hasn’t told Clarke any of this yet. She doesn’t want her daughter to panic, despite my arguments that the girl deserves to know there is no piece of paper protecting her now. Collins has recently been spotted hanging around her college. He’s managed to speak to her best friend, whom Clarke trusts very much and I have no reason to doubt the girl. That’s why I called you." Kane explains, now leaning back against the desk in front of Bellamy. 

     From this close, Bellamy can see his eyes are sunken and have bags under them. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. It’s been a while since he’s even seen Kane for more than just a few passing seconds on a television or a newspaper. The office has a way of aging people prematurely, and being the guy he is, Bellamy wouldn’t be surprised if Kane was severely affected by the job. 

     Bellamy takes a minute to mull it over. Kane said he trusts him with his life. That’s insane. Considering he wasn’t able to save the life of Jasper Jordan or Wells Jaha, the former President’s son, he doesn’t think he has the best track record for keeping people alive. He could flat out deny the mission, leaving Clarke in the capable hands of the Secret Service. But he also knows taking such a high profile case could really boost his security business. Although, that could be a double edged sword, to be recognized when working in what is basically an undercover line of work. 

     He decides to voice his biggest concern. “ I know you say you trusted me but why are you so sure you can trust me now? After all the times I left you down”

     “Bellamy,” Kane’s eyes go soft before continuing, “it’s true I don’t know what happened to you over the past few years. But I knew you when my life depended on you. I always knew that you would actually take a bullet for me. It’s in the job description, sure, but we know that there were people on that team who would second guess it. And really, you have some of the best instincts of anyone I’ve ever known. You know how to do this job. You have the right skill set for this job. And I trust you with her life just like I trusted you with mine.” Kane touches his shoulder. 

     It brings Bellamy back to reality. He could argue further. But the Secret Service has failed good people before. And for some stupid reason he can't really place, he doesn't want to entrust Clarke Griffin's safety to anyone else. “Okay,” Bellamy sighs. “When do I start?” 

     Kane’s eyes can’t hide his relief. “You already have,” he answers. “Now, come with me.” He stands up and begins to walk out of the room towards the back door. After a deep breath, Bellamy follows. 


	2. Chapter 2

     Clarke wakes up to the sun shining through her sheer curtains. After making the very difficult decision to get up, she blindly searches the bed for her phone before catching it by her hip. Three missed calls and a text from Kane greet her, but he can wait. Her fingers scroll past them and dial Raven’s number, who picks up after 3 rings. 

     “Oh thank God, Clarke,” her voice is groggy but full of relief. 

    “Raven, I’m okay. I had to think. I told my mom and Kane. Security is going to be tighter around me.” It goes without saying, that her security would be a top priority.

     “Well, I’m glad you’re in a place that can protect you.” Raven admits. 

Raven normally detested the Secret Service. Before they were only ever alone when they were in Clarke’s room. Lately that luxury had been extended to Raven’s apartment, but someone was always stationed of outside of the building. Clarke worries now not only for her own safety, but for her friend's too. 

     “Raven why don’t you come and stay with me while we get this whole thing worked out? I don’t want you out there in Georgetown alone,” Clarke suggests. 

     “Clarke, I’ve been trying to get you to move in with me since we started college. Now you want me to move out because  _our_  stalker ex-boyfriend came back. No, I won’t let him do that to me. Besides, we both know the Secret Service probably arrest me because they think I’m building bombs!” 

     “But you are building bombs!” Clarke argues back. 

     “Yeah, but I want to be a bomb diffuser. If you can’t build a bomb you can’t diffuse a bomb!” Raven says for the thousandth time. She was never one to back down from an argument she thought she could win.

     “I’m just saying, you living here is an option. And it would make me feel safer if your safety was guaranteed, too.” Clarke finishes.

     “Alright, alright, I see your point Griffin. I’ll think about it okay? Maybe just for a sleep over. I don’t think the President would be that comfortable with me living in your borrowed White House.” 

     Raven’s budged more than Clarke ever expected her to. "Thanks Rae," Clarke says earnestly. 

    "Hey, I still haven't decided yet okay," Raven quickly says. "So am I gonna see you around campus today? I thought we could stop and get coffee together if you think you can swing it."

    Clarke smiles, "Sounds good. I'll try to stop by Common Grounds before my first class if I get there early."

    "Sounds like a plan."

     They say their goodbyes and agree to keep each other posted on whatever comes up or wherever they go next. 

     Clarke steps off her bed, stretching and groaning through her newfound aches from a less than restful sleep. She grabs her things and starts walking towards her bathroom, opening the door to the hallway. Before she can get through the door, she notices the guard stationed outside the room is unfamiliar to her. It certainly isn't Zoe Monroe, her usual Secret Service agent. He’s not dressed like the rest of them. Instead of the classic black tie uniform, he’s sporting a dark gray shirt and black cargo pants with black combat boots. His hair is an unruly mess of black curls and his stance is wide. 

     She’s been trained to spot any differences in staff, and she knows better than to accept a change of security. She briefly thinks that he could be a new hire or a transfer, but then finds herself asking why someone unfamiliar to her would be assigned to her case when it’s so high profile. She doesn’t like it one bit. She finds herself backing away from the doorframe slowly.

     “Don't panic. I’m your security detail." The voice is deep and fills the air around her. That's what someone who wasn't her security detail would want her to believe. She freezes, her fight or flight response jumping into high gear. She takes a deep breath and tries to force logic to take over. 

     She knows her voice has to be unwavering. “Who assigned you to me? And while we’re at it, what is your name and rank?” She asks, her hand hovering over one of the alarms they have in every room.

     He turns his head to the side to answer her so she can see his profile. Can profiles be hot? She hates that she’s thinking about it at a time like this, but she can’t help it. “Kane,” he replies sharply. “Your mother knows I'm here too. I'm Bellamy, I'm in private security. As of today, that means I’m your security.”

     Everything about his answer sounds fake. The VP doesn’t assign security. Nobody hired by the government would ever refer to him as just Kane. The same goes for calling her mom 'your mother' and not President Griffin. He’s not a Secret Service agent. And his name is Bellamy? She’s never heard a name like it in her life. Still, she has the upper hand with her finger on the button, so she lets her curiosity get the better of her, and decides to let him keep talking. “Okay Bellamy,” she says, emphasizing the syllables in his name, “So just when did Kane assign you to me?" 

     “7:30 a.m. today.” He answers, still with his back turned. 

     This makes Clarke take a second to check the time on her phone. 9 a.m. Shit. She has class in an hour and a half. She has to get dressed and get through D.C. traffic in that time. “Shit.” 

     He turns around at that. Christ, he’s hotter face on. How is he hotter face on? And he looks familiar. “You said Kane assigned you to me? How do you know Kane?” She asks. 

     “I used to work his Secret Service detail years ago. Now, I have my own business. He called me this morning to take on a personal project, which I found out, happens to be you.” He answers. She does vaguely remember someone who looked like him working here a couple of years ago. But he had slicked back black hair and actually looked clean. If this is the same man, it seems like he really gave up caring about appearances. She doesn’t understand how that’s hot to her.

     "Also," his voice comes through again, "he told me you should check your phone.” 

     “Oh did he?” She growls, whipping out her phone.

     "Yeah," Bellamy mutters under his breath.

     She unlocks her phone to look at the text from Kane which unsurprisingly just reads: 

 

Call me when you wake up.

 

     She looks back up at Bellamy, who is staring at her with a smirk she wants to wipe off his face. She quickly presses at Kane’s contact to call him.

     “Clarke, thanks for calling,” Kane begins.

     “Do you want to explain the male Kim Possible standing in my doorframe?” Clarke jumps straight to the point.

     “Kim Possible? Do you mean Bellamy?” Kane questions.

     “Sure, if that’s a real name.” 

     “Yes it is. That would be Bellamy Blake. I hired him to be your personal body guard until we can be sure Finn is not a danger to you.” Clarke’s eyes flick up to meet Bellamy’s. He’s wearing the same sly smile he was earlier, but it’s less menacing and somehow more endearing now.

   “You’ve vetted him?” Clarke adds, her eyes still locked on his. 

   “Extensively. He used to be my personal Secret Service agent. I ran another background check on him before I asked him to watch you. He’s clean, Clarke. And I trust him.” 

    "Hm," Clarke replies as Bellamy raises his chin. "Thanks Kane," she adds before hanging up. "Just because you are who you say you are doesn't mean I automatically trust you," she says.

    "I didn't really expect you to," he answers, his lip turning up on one side. "So," he says after a moment, "you should probably go get ready for school."

    The comment seems to bring her back to reality. At least for today, Bellamy Blake was going to be at her side. "Yeah, I probably should. Excuse me," she says, pushing past him on the way to the bathroom. She can hear him snort a laugh behind her. 

 

 

* * *

 

   

     "Did you really have to call me a Kim Possible wannabe?" Bellamy asks, cocking his head to the side while they walk down the Georgetown sidewalk. It's a warm day for late January. He opted to wear a light black jacket. Clarke decided to wear an olive coat that he knows is too warm for this weather. But he knows the princess has got to look good.

    "I didn't call you a wannabe! And also I didn’t think you'd get the reference," she answers with a shrug.

    "I have a younger sister around your age Clarke, you two probably watched the same things." Bellamy says before quickly shutting his mouth. The information slipped out in a way he's normally so careful to avoid.

     "Oh, what's her name?" Clarke asks, with a smile Bellamy doesn’t trust.

     "Octavia," he answers tersely, mad at himself for letting the conversation get so personal. He didn't need to bring his sister up to her yet. Although, if this job lasts a while, inevitably someone else would have to watch her, and his sister is one of their best agents in his business.

   "Sorry, I didn’t know that was such a touchy subject." Clarke answers.

    They continue to walk for a few more minutes in silence. He hates that he was sharp with her. The mood has turned to unbearably awkward. He regrets his sharp reply, realizing that she was just trying to be nice. But there’s still something about her smile that reminds him too much of her mothers. A politicians smile. 

     They’ve gotten a few curious looks, and a whole lot of fake smiles that make Bellamy uncomfortable. She doesn’t seem to pay it any mind. While it’s probably just a product of her life as a notable figure, her lack of vigilance is concerning to him. He notices a few students pull out their phones and cameras and point them in their direction. He sends them a glare and all of them shrink under his gaze. Yeah, Clarke must get this all of the time. 

     "My favorite coffee shop on campus is coming up on the left. I’m going to stop in." Clarke states. They do have about half an hour before her class begins. He nods his head and she leads the way. She rushes to the door causing him to jog a little behind her. "Come on," she says holding the door open for him. He palms the door above her head and motions for her to go first, which she rolls her eyes at. 

     She scans the coffee shop as if she's looking for someone, and judging by the eager look on her face he's pretty sure its not for Finn Collins. Not that Bellamy hasn't already scoped the place out. Seeming to have given up, she settles herself into the line looking up at the menu. His eyes widen at the prices in the shop. It's almost always cheaper to make coffee at home, but this place takes that concept to a whole other level. 

     "The owner travels to South America every six months to find the best coffee beans to import here," Clarke says, seeming to read his mind. He looks down to find her looking up at him. He sends her a look and she shrugs, clearly not caring. 

    She's picking up her over-priced coffee at the other end of the bar when her eyes light up and she smiles. Bellamy shifts his attention over to a tanned, dark-haired girl roughly the same height and age as Clarke. 

    "Hey, there you are," the girl begins.

    "Hey you," Clarke answers. "Raven, this is Bellamy," she says motioning to him beside her. 

    Raven does a full body scan of Bellamy. He tries not to notice the way her eyes loomed a little too long on his chest. While he’s sure she’s just checking him out, he still appreciates her thoroughness. "Charmed," she says before turning back to Clarke. "How long is this live action G.I. Joe gonna be around for? And does he speak?"

    "Raven Reyes," he starts, seeming to surprise the two girls, "you're the one who builds bombs," he says, adding a smile at the end. 

     "How did you-" Raven says her eyes wide at Bellamy, "Clarke?" She says turning her attention to her friend who looks just as shocked as she does. 

     "I swear I didn't say anything," Clarke says, bewildered. "How do you know that?" She says to Bellamy.

    "You talk on the phone pretty loudly," is all he says. 

    "Well shit," Raven says. "You're not gonna do anything about it right? It's in the safety of my own home and I've never set anything off or even completed one outside of a laboratory," she explains. 

    "As long it doesn't affect Clarke, I don't care. But just so we're clear, she's not going to be visiting your apartment as long as I'm around," the girl stares as he leans in closer. "And I'd stop yelling about how you build bombs in an extremely public D.C. coffee house if I were you," he finishes. Raven gulps and nods. He pulls away finding both of them now staring at him. "Clarke," he says sharply, "I think we better be getting to your class." 

     "No, we still have time. I'm going to look for a seat," Clarke says defiantly. She looks over at Raven before going off to find a table. Raven glances up at Bellamy uncomfortably before following her friend. He grits his teeth. This girl really is going to test his every last bit of patience, he can already feel it. 

   Clarke is sitting at a table for two against a window. Bellamy despises her choice of a seat, not because there are only two chairs, but because it's probably the worst choice in terms of safety. Anyone can see in. Raven stands awkwardly to the side as Clarke shoots her a glare. Raven shifts and eventually sits down with Clarke. 

    Two can play at this game. Bellamy steals a seat from another two person table that is only occupied by one girl with a laptop open, and plops it down facing out the window. The laptop girl doesn't even notice. Clarke on the other hand very much noticed. He doesn't look at her. Instead, he takes note of his peripherals and especially of the outside street. 

     The two girls try to make small talk around him, but he's a looming presence and he can feel their eyes flickering over at him at lulls in the conversation. He catches Clarke's glare at him and he can feel the side of his mouth turn up slightly. She scoffs and he wishes annoying her wasn't so fun.

    "Bellamy," Clarke shifts the conversation to him.

    "Yes?" He replies.

    "Do you know what happened to my usual Secret Service detail, Zoe Monroe?"

    Monroe, he remembers Monroe. She was in training with Jasper as a cadet. He's surprised to hear her name again, but not surprised to hear she advanced so high in the service. She was brave even back then. Still, he has no idea what happened to her after he took her assignment.

     "I don't know," he answers honestly, "she probably got reassigned in the White House. I'm sure she'll be back after I'm gone, don't worry." He finishes with a biting tone. He knows she wishes he was already gone. Too bad, she’s going to have to live with him until he knows she’s safe. 

    Raven twists her pony tail between her fingers uncomfortably while Clarke tries to continue their conversation. It's futile, and before they know it they actually have to hurry up and to their respective classes.

    Once outside the air between Clarke and Bellamy is tense. They walk to the hall where she takes her art classes. It’s common knowledge that Clarke is studying to become a medical doctor, but not such common knowledge that she also majors in fine arts. It makes her class schedule horrifically full. The hall is massive and made of gray brick that makes him feel like he’s in a castle. 

    “So,” Clarke begins, “where are you gonna be for my class?” 

    “I need to be in the same room as you,” he answers honestly. She can’t be out of his eyesight for that long. 

    “Can you hang out in the back at least? My security normally stays off the campus and I don’t feel like explaining all of this to my professors.” Clarke adds, putting her hands up like a stop sign. 

    “That doesn't make sense. They can’t protect you from out there.” He says, not answering her question. 

    “So? They’ve got an agreement with Georgetown’s campus police. I’m safe here Bellamy.”

    “If you truly were, I wouldn’t be here. I’m not taking any risks with you. I’ll be in the room. This isn’t up for discussion.” And he means it. 

    They enter the classroom, it’s a studio filled with metal tables and tubs full of charcoal. It’s 10 minutes before class is set to begin and it’s half empty. Clarke quickly shuffles up to her professor to explain the situation. She waves over to him at some point and the professor gives him a glance before smiling. He makes out the words “not a problem” and “I understand,” from the professor before Clarke is back over at his side.

    “I had to make sure she was okay with it,” Clarke says, not looking at him. 

    “Well, she has to be,” he says matter-of-factly. He leans in closer to her ear and she flicks her eyes over at him confused. “Next time we walk into a room be aware of all of the exits. Let me scope the space before running away from me. I can’t protect you if you’re far away from me,” he says.

    She looks annoyed and mouths a “sorry.” It doesn’t seem sincere. He knows better than jump right into trusting a person raised in politics. 

    They find two seats next to each other and the hour passes without incident. The other students are too wrapped up in their own projects to consider who the President’s daughter brought to class today. Clarke is working on a massive drawing of what looks like a spaceship floating in the blackness of space. 

    Once class ends Clarke doesn’t get up. The other students move around her and pack up their things. Bellamy sits there next to Clarke. For some reason, he can’t bring himself to tap her shoulder to get up. She's so immersed in her own two-dimensional world she's creating. It's refreshing to watch her be creative instead of combative.

   He taps her shoulder and her head snaps up. Her eyes are wild with alarm. It takes him by surprise. “I, uh, it’s time to go,” he says. 

    Clarke glances around the room, “I guess it is,” she answers. She takes a final look down at her work before rolling it up and securing it in a tube she brought to store it. 

    “Let me carry it,” Bellamy offers.

     She looks confused, “you really don’t have to. I’m fine carrying it myself.”

    “I was so bored watching you draw for an hour let me do something.” 

     She shrugs and hands him the tube, which has a sling attachment so it can be secured around his back. He puts it on and she huffs a laugh “What?” He says squinting at her.

    “You look like you’re a student here. A real artsy type. All you need are some hipster glasses.” She adds with a flick of her wrist. 

   “I have some black round glasses at home,” he says jokingly.

    She looks at him with her eyebrows raised. “Now, that’s a look,” she says before laughing it off. 

    They stop and get lunch at some campus restaurant before continuing on. The next few classes fly by in a blur. Only a few students, mostly female, bother even looking at him. He perks up when they attend her Ancient Roman history class. Unfortunately, he thinks Clarke may have noticed, judging from her confused looks when he went through her textbook while she took notes. By the time her school day is over the sun is starting to set over the Potomac. He makes a mental note to look at her schedule more closely when he gets home, because no one in their right mind would fill up their course load like this everyday even if they're getting dual degrees.

    They call the driver and make it back to the White House before they're escorted into the foyer. Bellamy briefly sees Kane and they share a nod before the VP disappears down another corridor. Clarke and Bellamy stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. He knows his shift with her is technically over. Not that he was ever formally given parameters for when he's needed, but the White House is overrun with Secret Service and he still can't do the job of 15 as just one man. He hands her back her drawing. They mumble their goodbyes and he turns to leave the same way they just came in. He notices she starts walking in the direction of her room.

    “Hey Bellamy,” she says stopping, he turns back around to look at her, “tomorrow could you wear something that makes you look a little less like a military assassin and more like a normal guy?” 

  “What’s wrong with what I’ve got now?” He asks.

   “If you don’t want me to make any more spy show references I think you’d be safest wearing jeans and a less worn out shirt. Plus, I thought you’re supposed to look inconspicuous, not like the Secret Service.” She says. And damn her, she’s making a valid point. 

   He dramatically sighs, “I’ll try. But no promises.” He turns back around, knowing tomorrow morning he’s going to take her advice. He shakes his head, but he can’t shake her off that easy. 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your support last chapter! Let me know how you liked this one too


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

    Clarke's eating breakfast with her mother when she sees it. He's huddled close to her, with one of his arms behind her back and the other outstretched as if pointing to something in the distance. He's carrying her bags and they're leaning into each other. She gets why it's damming. It would look like it was just security footage, if it wasn’t front page on the Washington Daily. She puts her spoon down and grabs the paper off of the table. Her mom is noticeably startled by her sudden movement, but Clarke doesn't give her a second glance. She takes a long look at the cover with the headline  _BODYGUARD OR NEW BEAU?_  She ignores the little jolt she feels looking at her and Bellamy so close together. She flips open the paper to the story and begins reading.

      _First daughter, Clarke Griffin, was spotted out on the Georgetown campus last week with a new man. Is this a new romance? He was dressed in street clothes and the mystery man seemed to be more than just a bodyguard. They were even seen cuddling up before one of her classes. Could something new be sparking up with the first daughter? Wonder if mommy approves._

    The paper goes on for a while longer with more pictures of them together including one from inside the coffee shop and one of them heading into the same car at the end of the day. It was clear that they were being followed all day. She should be used to this, but she still feels a wave of anxiety building. She doesn't want to see him after this. She lays it back down on the table. 

    “You wanna share?” Her mom asks, as she continues to eat her breakfast. Clarke flings the paper over towards her. Abby glances at it. “Oh,” her mom says. She doesn’t bother to pick up the paper.

    “You’re not concerned?” Clarke asks Abby. 

    “Why would I be? It’s just tabloid gossip. It happens when you’re in the public eye.” Abby states as if Clarke isn't already intimately aware of that fact. She continues eating, while Clarke has lost her appetite.

    “I guess,” she says. “I’m gonna go get ready for school. I’ve got genetics today."

     Clarke stands up from the table and takes one more look at her mother. In some ways she feels like she’s studying to become a doctor because her mom was one, like she needs to win her approval through her profession. But it's still a pretty lucrative profession and it gives her a way to help people, so she's stuck with it. 

    "Clarke," her mom says before she's left the kitchen, "if you want my advice, I'd use it to your advantage." 

    “What?” Clarke asks, already done with the conversation.

    “Whatever they pin on you, you should always find a way to make it work for you.” Abby explains. Clarke sends her mother another confused look.

     "Everything is an opportunity," Abby clarifies.

     “Okay..." Clarke says trailing off. She doesn't know what to do with half of the thing's her mother says to her anymore.

     "I’m gonna go now.”

     Abby smiles, “have a good day, Clarke.” 

 

    Once upstairs, Clarke texts Raven:

     _Have you seen the Washington Daily today?_

     It only takes a minute for her friend to respond.

     _Uh, no, who still reads papers?_

     Clarke sighs, this is D.C., everyone still reads papers, even if they're on tablets. 

      _Look it up._

     Clarke texts back. Raven answers almost immediately. 

    _Oh my GOD._

    Yeah, that was what she was expecting. Clarke isn't looking forwards about the oncoming media onslaught about this. The only bad press Clarke has ever had published against her was when she went to a protest her freshman year, and only about half the town was mad about that. 

      _What am I gonna do Raven?_

_Idk, but i wouldn't worry about it too much. You’ll figure something out. It’s just temporary. Plus maybe it’ll make you seem a little normal._

    Clarke scoffs at her friend’s message, not bothering to respond. As much as she hates it, Raven is probably right. She hasn’t been seen with anyone since Lexa, and even then it was assumed that she was just a close friend of hers. Even though she felt guilty about it, she was somewhat glad bisexual erasure. It brought less attention to her dating life. 

     She dresses quickly and puts her hair in a single braid. She looks more put together than she did last week. Not that she’s gotten much sleep since she found out Finn was back. She always found it a little difficult to fall sleep when there was anything stressful going on. 

     She's surprised Bellamy isn't here yet, not that she's complaining. She tries to name the emotion she is feeling, but refuses to call it nervousness. She wonders if he's seen the article, and if so, how mad is he about it. It's clear he's not happy about the job, this will only make it worse. He did mention that he does have a private security company, so maybe he has other agents he could send out in his place that aren't complete jackasses.

     She's by the side entrance when he arrives, literally two minutes before she absolutely has to leave to get to class on time. He looks like more of a mess than he did last week. Though it looks like he may have put some thought into his outfit. Instead of cargo pants he's wearing black jeans with a black tee and the same boots from last week. He's sporting a grumpy pout. "You ready?" Is the only thing he bothers to say. 

    Clarke scowls for a second at his freckled face before maneuvering towards the car. They get in the back of the car. The air is thick. She notices the veins in his hands are popping up from how hard his fists are clenched. She can't help but watch him. He really needs to learn how to calm down. She silently wishes she will stop finding him so hot. 

     Surprisingly, he speaks first. "Have you seen the paper?"

    "Yes," Clarke manages. The air gets no less heavy. "What do you think we should do about it?" 

    "I think we should just let it be. Let them talk. Who really cares?" He looks like he's trying to convince himself not to care.

    But Clarke nods anyway, "sounds like a plan."

    

    It turns out, lots of people care. Hoards of people crowd around her as she tries to walk her usual route to class. She can't escape the eyes that she feels glued to her back, even more than normal. Bellamy walks beside her protectively as they make it through the herd to get to the building. Her genetics professor eyes them suspiciously as they take two seats by the door. Clarke sighs and looks at Bellamy, who nods in understanding before she walks to her professor. She informs him that Bellamy is her new hired security. The look he gives tells Clarke he doesn't really buy it, but he doesn't press the topic. It's like she needs a note from her mother to announce a new bodyguard to her school teacher. If only people weren't so quick to believe tabloid gossip. 

     They awkwardly sit in the back for an hour and a half while she tries to ignore the curious glances coming from her fellow students. Bellamy looks bored out of his mind while Clarke tries to take notes. The professor glances up towards them more than once and she wishes that she could just get up and leave. But her mother's voice is always there in the back of her head, "we have to set the example, for the country." Sometimes, she'd like to be more than just an example.

     She leaves to find that the crowd has grown exponentially. And she has over an hour till her next class. 

    Ironically, the rumor has made it so they have to stick closer together. By the time the day is only halfway over, cameras have been in her face for hours. Every time she thinks they've escaped one mob, another pops up. Bellamy took to barking commands at students to put their phones down, most of them complying when they see him, but there are too many and he can’t scare them all away. One kid even goes as far as to throw a pack of condoms at them, which they both stare at on the ground in disgust.

     "Where can we go that they won't be?" he asks dipping down close to her ear so the crowd won't hear.

     She takes a moment to think before dawning a small smirk.

     "Follow me," she says just as closely. They steer around a crowd and make it back around the art building she has half of her classes in. She pulls him with her as she ducks into a side alley. He gives her a look for that, but at least she took him with her. She's been tempted to ditch him all day. Clarke drags him to the end of the alley and pulls on the old metal emergency exit door, which makes no noise. The alarm's long dead. It opens with a rusty creak. Suddenly she can feel Bellamy's heat behind her and she can almost feel his chastisement coming. 

     "After you," he says instead. "You’re the one who knows where we are," he says and she steps into the brick and metal stairwell. 

     Clarke starts walking down the steps until she reaches the door to the art building's basement. She pushes forward and opens the door. Next to her, Bellamy swivels his head around, trying to understand the underground labyrinth she's brought him to. "These are the underground tunnels. It's a way some of the campus buildings connect to each other. Well, the art buildings anyway. Nobody comes down here except theater kids to get to the costume store room," she explains. He nods and steps onto the gray brick below him. The pathways are dimly lit with office-type ceiling tiles above them. But it is empty, just as she expected. 

     He doesn't say anything as he steps forward and explores the rooms and halls. She follows closely behind. "You did good," Bellamy says after what feels like an eternity, "there really is nobody down here."

     A compliment from Bellamy Blake? She'll take it. 

     They eventually find an old dirty looking couch in the hall and he takes a seat on it. Clarke scrunches her nose. He pats the seat next to him, but she's resolved herself to stand. “I’m good, thanks,” she says. 

    “Come on, princess, it’s not that bad,” and he motions for her to sit again.

     She presses her mouth into a thin line. “Princess?”

     “Just sit down.” 

     Eventually she rolls her eyes and sits on the grimy sofa a few spaces away from him. 

     A few moments pass in silence. 

    “My partner wants to have a meeting tonight. It concerns you...and me. I thought you may want to be there.” Bellamy says carefully. His partner? This just got so much more complicated. 

    “Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Clarke asks.

     He furrows his brow. “Why wouldn’t it be? It's just a conversation.” 

    His response irks her. “Just a conversation?” She snaps. “Maybe you should be a little more concerned about how your partner feels about all of this. Instead, you're inviting me to an unnecessary and awkward meeting for 'just a conversation'?"

    His face shifts from angry to soft to the verge of laughing. “You’re worried about how my business partner feels about you and I?”

     He smiles. It’s revoltingly hot. 

    Clarke’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. “You can understand how I could take that the wrong way, right?” She asks. 

    His smirk is going to be the death of her, and she feels her blush getting stronger. “You’re right. I really am a catch. You should feel honored everyone here thinks we’re together,” he teases. 

     Her blush slowly dissipates as she shakes her head and remembers what a douche bag he is. 

     His smile continues as he twists his arm around so he can read the time on his watch. “We’ve got an hour until your next class,” he states. It sounds like a suggestion to Clarke’s ears, but he quickly adds, “I’m going to make a few calls. Call whoever you think needs to know about the meeting, just remember your safety and use discretion. Don’t tell anybody who could put his mission at risk.” She sits there stewing over the fact he thinks she’s stupid enough to tell the wrong people that she’s going over to Bellamy’s for a top secret meeting tonight. She wants to remind him she’s been in the public eye longer than he has. She knows what can happen when someone that isn’t 100% trustworthy gets a whiff of information. But she resolves to keep her mouth shut for now. 

    He shuffles to a corner not far away from the couch and takes out an actual flip phone. She studies him for a minute before she eventually takes out her iPhone.

     Surprisingly, the basement has cell service. Clarke calls Raven to let her know about the impromptu meeting. Raven declares that she has to go too, 'for protection'. Clarke resists, asking her friend why she’d want to get anywhere near one of “that asshole’s” meetings. Raven persists, and eventually brings up the fact that she should be aware of Clarke’s safety concerns too. Clarke caves and tells her she’ll try to get Bellamy to pick her up on the way. She glances up to find him looking at her with a death stare, clearly he'd been listening in. 

     Both of them hang up their phone calls and they meet by the stairwell. 

     "Who did you volunteer me to pick up tonight?" Bellamy asks with his arms crossed.

     "Raven. And I didn't volunteer it, she invited herself. I just figured you'd want to pick her up instead of having her finding her own way there."

     "I didn't say she was invited."

     Is that an actual pout on his face?

     "Bellamy, I know that. But she does have a stake in this too. She's my best friend. Let her come."

     He lets his hands drop and stands up straighter before he sighs and nods. Clarke feels herself grin a little when he turns away to open the door to the stairwell. They exchange a knowing glance before stepping outside to find food before her last class of the day. 

    

* * *

 

    He can’t believe he’s about to let Clarke in his home. It’s not that they can really meet anywhere else. And, to be fair, he did build the basement just for the sake of his business. His house was never empty for long. Monty was often found coding on the computers down there. Octavia was always around, somewhere. Miller had his own office built in his house, but everyone made the choice years ago that Bellamy’s was going to be the spot for all of their official work. 

    It not an easy process getting Clarke to his house without pomp and circumstance. He had called Kane when they in the art building's basement to ask just how much he trusted him with Clarke's safety. Once he believed Kane truly did, he asked if he could take Clarke to his safe house for a meeting. Kane reminded him that he is not head of security or the Secret Service, but he would pass the message along to them. Bellamy hung up before he was given their numbers. 

     First, they had to make it back to the White House so Bellamy could retrieve his Rover. It’s one of the few luxury items he’s allowed himself to have. Clarke looked on in confusion as he opened the side door for her before getting in himself. Somehow he let Clarke talk him into letting Raven come to the meeting tonight, mostly because he knew she’d show up anyway. He had her pegged as someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

    They drive in silence to Raven’s apartment. Clarke's watching the D.C. scenery or her hands the whole time. They eventually reach Raven's Georgetown apartment. The girl comes down in a sporty red jacket with a stern look on her face. The ride is awkward as he checks the rearview mirrors and watches as the two girls exchange looks and send texts to each other. 

    "I can't keep you safe if I don't know what you guys are up to," Bellamy says looking towards the girls. 

    "It sounds like you're just trying to be nosy to me," Raven says. 

    He grinds his teeth, but lets it go. 

    Eventually, after a long ride, his detached Arlington home looms before them, and it’s time to let them in. For once, he finds himself feeling the slightest bit vulnerable. A private place in his life was about to be on display to the President’s daughter and her friend. He reminds himself he has a mission to finish, he parks in the garage off the alley behind his house and he makes his way up the back steps.

     Before he reaches the top, Octavia pops her head out and Juno comes bounding through the door to greet him. “Sorry!” Octavia shouts as Juno jumps up wagging her tail as hard as she can. She beams at him, and he knows it's just a ploy to make him less mad at her. It's her fault he has two strangers in his home. 

    “You’ve got to at least try to keep her in the house!” Bellamy shouts. He’s petting Juno when Raven appears next to him now smiling too, he stills and feels Juno mirroring him. 

     “What’s her name?” Raven asks, with Clarke behind her.

     “Juno,” Bellamy introduces her like a proud parent. Juno raises her head at the mention of her name. He reaches down and scratches under her ear some more. 

     "She's cute," Raven says before glancing over at Octavia. "And who is she?" 

     "That would be my sister, Octavia. She's part of my security team."

     Clarke nods at her and begins walking towards the back door. She doesn't bother to turn around as she passes Octavia. His sister looks just as confused as he feels. After a moment, Octavia simply shrugs and retreats into the house after Clarke. Raven, Bellamy and Juno aren't far behind.

    They find Clarke in the basement. She's standing around a large wooden table. She's flanked by Miller, Lincoln and Octavia. Monty is typing away at something on the computer, but he is clearly distracted by the important guest in the room. He notices Murphy eyeing her suspiciously from a dark corner, where he usually is. Bellamy wonders if she's even noticed he's there at all.

     They all shift around as Bellamy makes his way to the center of the table next to Miller. Raven settles in next to Clarke, Monty gets up and stands at the foot of the table, and Murphy emerges from his chosen shadow. Clarke doesn't bat an eye and crosses her arms. Maybe she did notice him after all. 

    Bellamy gives Miller a nod before he begins, "We've invited everybody here today to introduce Clarke and Raven to the team. You all know why she's here under our protection. Her friend Raven is here because she has valuable information and she has a stake in Clarke's security as well. We've all seen the news, and we're all here to discuss the best way to proceed from here on out." Bellamy glances around the table to every member of the team.   

     Octavia has the decency to wait until they've all taken a seat before she jumps in. "I think you should run with it. Just pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend." 

     Both Bellamy and Clarke shoot her a dirty look. Raven shifts uncomfortably next to Clarke and he shifts his attention towards Lincoln, who seems just as confused at his girlfriend's proposal as the rest of them. Miller and Murphy sit stone faced and Monty lowers his gaze, now apparently interested in wood grain.

    Bellamy quickly realizes nobody else is going to speak on this matter. Octavia has already gotten to them all, except Lincoln surprisingly. "Explain, O," he says, narrowing his eyes at his sister. 

    "I," she says glancing around at all of their teammates, as if asking for support, "think it would be a good idea if you had a fake relationship with Clarke. It would lessen the suspicion. You aren't supposed to look like her security, Bell."

    Clarke blinks, but keeps her brows drawn together. Bellamy has a feeling that's not the end of his sister's reasoning. It would take a lot more than that to convince the team to go all in. 

    "I still don't get it," Bellamy says. Clarke's eyes flick over to him before landing back on Octavia.

    "Me either," Raven adds. 

    "Look, you're around each other all the time now anyway. If people think you two are together it'll lower the suspicion around Bellamy, since Clarke says she normally doesn't have Secret Service on campus. If not, people might realize something is up with Clarke and people might think there's a potential security risk to the United States," Octavia reasons. "Plus, you could show that asshole stalking you that you've moved on," she adds with a sly smile just to Clarke.

    "I'm not sure about that," Clarke says, looking just as confused as he feels.  

    "Anyone else have any other ideas?" Bellamy asks the group. 

    "I agree with Octavia," Miller says. Great, so now his best friend is agreeing to his baby sister's half-baked ideas. 

    "I don't, that could backfire," Lincoln speaks after a second. Octavia tries her hardest not to look annoyed, but fails miserably.

    "Finally," Clarke says. He tries not to let it get a smile out of him. Thank God they're on the same page at least. "I don't agree to date him," taking a look at Bellamy, "fake or otherwise." Clarke says, tightening her grip on her crossed arms. 

    "Clarke," Raven begins, "I think you should hear them out." 

    "You too?" Clarke unfurls her arms.

    "I think there's more to this. And if it could potentially keep you safer, I think you should consider it," Raven explains. Bellamy sits there with his jaw slack.

    "Think about it this way," Octavia's voice comes through, "thinking that you've moved on might make your crazy ex go even more crazy. He does something stupid, and boom, we've got him. Then he's gone, and you can keep living your life as the President's daughter stalker free." 

    He can't hold back his gut reaction. "It's too dangerous, O. This is a high profile case. We can't be provoking insane people and expect everything to go according to plan, it never works like that. It's irrational."

    "It makes sense, Bellamy," Monty now speaks up, his eyes peaking out from under his dark fringe. "The quicker he does something that merits another restraining order or jail time he's gone and we can all get back to our lives."

    "Another restraining order? What happened to the one I have?" Clarke questions. Fuck, she didn't know it expired. And Monty just revealed highly classified information Clarke wasn’t supposed to know yet. Her blue eyes flick over towards Bellamy, and they demand answers.

    "Clarke," Bellamy begins, but he's unsure of what to say next. He doesn’t want to overstep his bounds and tell her something the President needs to tell her herself. 

    "It expired," Octavia states plainly, "it had been in place too long without any evidence that he was still up to his bullshit." 

     He met with his team after the first night he took the job. Octavia knows everything, including the fact the President didn't want Clarke to know the court order expired. They all know what Bellamy got himself into, but nobody was that upset by it, at least, he thought nobody was. 

    "That's impossible. My mom would've told me if that happened," Clarke huffs, and takes a moment to look to Raven. The girl gives her a tight smile and a shrug. He watches as Clarke's face falls.

    After a moment, Clarke sniffs and scrunches her nose. "How long have you known?" She asks Bellamy directly, ignoring all of the other faces at the table. 

     "Kane told me when he asked me to take the job," he answers honestly. 

    She purses her lips and nods, "great. Good to know."

    "I wanted her to tell you-"

    "But you knew she didn't. I think I deserve to know that there's nothing protecting me from a deranged delinquent, don't you?" Clarke snaps.

    "Yeah, well, that's what we're here for," Murphy adds. Clarke glares at him in response.

    Raven takes the opportunity to step around to her friend. "Let's get back to business here for a minute. Abby does fucked up shit all the time. That comes with the territory. There isn't a restraining order anymore and that's big, but that makes this whole fake relationship thing a better idea. Get him to do something stupid so you can get that order back." Raven reasons to just Clarke. Bellamy would like to think his willingness would be part of the equation too, but he's not the important player in the room. 

    "Raven makes a good argument," Octavia says mostly to Clarke. Lincoln stands next to her with a grimace on his face. 

    Clarke's face tells Bellamy that she's playing out every scenario in her head. They all keep their eyes glued on her as she makes up her mind. Eventually she finds her resolve and she lets out a simple, "okay."

    Okay? Did he just hear her right? He is really screwed now. Bellamy Blake: Clarke Griffin’s boyfriend and eventually ex-boyfriend. His new titles. He looks over to see his sister and Murphy grinning. Everyone except Lincoln and Bellamy seem to have accepted the news well. Lincoln's face showing his clear disapproval, but he doesn't say anything. 

    "Okay, so now that that's settled..." Octavia begins, unable to hide her satisfaction. They all talk around him for a few minutes as they describe the ways they should sit next to each other and look at each other from now on. They briefly go into touching and public affection, but he and Clarke both blanch at the subject. They put a hold on that conversation. 

    Miller calls the meeting adjourned and asks everyone to keep in touch, especially Bellamy and Clarke. Octavia sweeps Bellamy off to a corner of the basement after the meeting. "Why did you fight me so hard back there?"  

    "What do you mean why did I fight you? Are you insane? Why would I put this mission in jeopardy by antagonizing her stalker?" 

     "You and I both know it's a good idea, Bellamy. We need to get through this. Just have the lunatic do something and then the Secret Service can take over again."

     "I was hired to protect her. And I'm going to have to be working twice as hard now to make sure nothing happens to her on my watch," he barks at his sister.

    “You know the faster we finish this mission, the faster we can get on with the one we really want to put our full force behind. You can’t play babysitter to a spoiled child forever. She was fine without you and she’ll be fine after you’re gone.” 

    “It’s not that easy O, you know I want justice for Jasper more than maybe anybody else on this planet. But I can’t jump right into some ridiculous scheme to provoke a man who wants to hurt someone I have sworn to protect.” 

    Octavia stares at him as the rest of the team chats around the table. He can't manage to escape his sister's scrutinizing gaze. "What O?" He eventually says. She doesn't respond. "I can't let anything happen to her, I'm sorry." 

    "Oh my God," Octavia says, her mouth staying slightly open.

    "What?" 

    "You already care about her. You care about her more than you care about finishing this mission." She says, her eyes darting back and forth between his. 

    "What?" He repeats. "No I don't," he says with his face contorting in disbelief at his sister.

    "Yes you do, Bell. You're remembering what happened Jasper and Wells. You're afraid the same thing is going to happen to her." 

    "Why would you even make that comparison? This isn't the same mission."

    "Yes, but you feel just as responsible for them as you do for her. But she's different, because you can't blame yourself for anything that's happened to her yet." His sister is so sure of herself. But she's wrong, because he wasn't there to protect Wells, he's hurt Clarke more than his sister realizes. 

    "Don't assume to know how I feel," he adds before walking away from her.

     He walks back towards the center of the room and notices that Lincoln is over by the stairs having a conversation with Clarke. Judging by the look on their faces, it doesn't seem like a causal chat. Lincoln sees him immediately and suddenly smiles at Clarke. He says something to her before ducking away. Clarke looks bewildered as Bellamy approaches her.

    "What did he say?" Bellamy asks.

    "Hmm? Oh, it was nothing. He just doesn't agree with it, you know." Something about her answer tells him she's not being completely honest, but he lets it go for now. He’ll ask about it more when they aren’t so close to the eyes and ears of his team. 

    "Ready to go?" He asks. She nods her head.

    They find Raven hovering over Monty as he types on his desktop. Murphy is leaning up against the desk and the three are talking about some tech he doesn't understand. They exchange brisk goodbyes with everyone in the basement before they move to take the Rover back to Raven's apartment.  

 

 

    “What did Lincoln tell you?” Bellamy asks while driving back to the White House. They dropped Raven off 10 minutes ago and the silence is deafening. 

    “What do you mean? I told you, he said he didn’t agree with Octavia’s plan,” Clarke says, furrowing her brow.

    “That’s not all he said, Lincoln never talks unless he has something to say.” 

     Clarke shifts her eyes look towards Bellamy’s that show no signs of backing down. 

     Clarke sighs, "he knows my ex." 

     Bellamy looks away thinking. Lincoln barely knows anyone. It's part of the reason he hired him. He was great for undercover work. The only people Lincoln knows are Octavia, his team, and Grounders. Out of the three options, only one seemed the least bit plausible and it made him sick. On top of a crazy stalker, Clarke has an eco-terrorist ex. He clenches his teeth before he says, "Oh, that's what he said?"

    "Yes... My ex was really close to me when the first round of the Finn drama was going. Lincoln knew we were close," her voice trails off near the end. Bellamy takes note of the lack of pronouns. He expects her to say more but she stays quiet.

    "That's all?"

    "Yeah, he just didn't want the history to make it weird between us. He said he wanted to tell me and be honest up front and let me know before we officially worked together." She says it with a smile that doesn't touch her eyes.

    He grips the steering wheel tighter. She's lying. He knows it. Lincoln knows something he hasn't told Bellamy yet. Clarke seems shaken enough for the night, so he leaves the conversation be. But if Lincoln is still there when he gets home, he plans to have a discussion with him. They continue the drive back to the White House without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly longer than the rest so it took me a little more time to edit and make pretty for ya! As always, let me know what you think and where you think it's going next!


	4. Chapter 4

 

    "Remind me why we're here again," Bellamy asks gruffly, head twisted, watching the door behind them. 

    "It was your idea," Clarke reminds him, keeping her eyes on the host’s stand in front of them.   

    "I was being sarcastic,"

    "Yeah, well, it actually wasn't that bad of a plan," Clarke shrugs. "We had start sometime." 

    "I didn't think that had to be today," Bellamy shifts his black tie around as he says it. Like dressing in a suit is literally choking him.

    The whole day has been spent with fake love sick expressions on their faces. It had gotten to the point today where if he had offered to carry her books one more time she would've just left, consequences be damned. She should be tired of looking at him after a day of pretending, but she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the slight grimace he’s worn since stepping into the restaurant. He’s himself now, and she likes this part of him a lot more than she wants to.

   He clears his throat and glares as a random waiter stares at her, obviously star struck. Yeah, she likes this version of him a lot better. 

    A host approaches them and asks for a name, which Bellamy hesitantly says "Blake." Clarke chuckles, at least he didn’t make it under Griffin. 

    “I’m sorry, there’s no Blake here,” The host says, looking distressed. “But there is a Griffin,” 

    Bellamy grumbles under his breath at that, but Clarke smooths it over with an insincere smile. 

    The bubbly blonde host stumbles over her words as she enthusiastically shows them to a round corner table in a secluded area of the restaurant. Clarke follows her in a daze. She needs this to take her mind off of Lincoln’s warning from last night and the message she got this morning. 

    There are still a few full tables around them, but it's nice to get away from the commotion they encountered outside. Somehow the paparazzi knew to show up at this particular restaurant at this particular time. It instantly made Clarke suspicious. Despite how much she despises photographers, she supposes it means everything is going to plan. 

    Clarke and Bellamy sit staring blankly at each other, neither of them particularly happy to be there. They’re acting like themselves, finally shedding the fake smiles they’ve had on their faces all day. She cracks a smile, silently wondering what the outside world must think they’re here doing. 

    "What's so funny?” Bellamy asks. 

    “They probably think we’re celebrating our one week anniversary," Clarke laughs.

    He half-smiles, "I think couples sometimes go out to nice restaurants just because, Clarke," 

    Clarke can feel her smile fading. His words instantly remind her of Lexa. They never went out to nice restaurants when they were together. Most nights she would spend wrapped up in Lexa's apartment where they'd order takeout. That or the two of them would attempt to cook. Neither of them were particularly stellar at it, but they make up some of her best memories from that fall. But that was before she was the President's daughter, and she might not be able to have that with anyone ever again.

    All of a sudden, she feels a kick from under the table. 

    “Hey,” she protests.

    "Earth to Clarke,” He says ignoring her. She scowls, and lifts her head to find Bellamy looking at her with intense eyes. "Where'd you go?" He asks in softer voice. 

    She shakes her head, "sorry, I've just got a lot on my mind. I've got a paper for Impressionism I have to write by Monday." 

    For some inexplicable reason, she hates lying to him. In her position, she's had to lie to more people than she can count. It got easier with time. "What they don't know can't hurt them," as her mother so eloquently put it. She'd never felt good about it, but with Bellamy, she can feel it physically digging a pit in her stomach. 

     She needs to tell him the truth about the email. But now’s it's not the right time. 

    "Whatever you say," Bellamy mumbles, picking up his menu.

    When the waitress comes by and asks what they'll be drinking, Bellamy takes it upon himself to order two glasses of wine. Clarke tries to voice the fact that she doesn't drink, but the waitress is gone just as quickly as she appeared. Clarke silently glares at Bellamy who doesn't seem to notice, or even care. The waitress is back in a flash with two glasses of red wine.

    "I don't drink," Clarke says after she leaves. 

    “Today might be the day you want to start."

    Bellamy takes a long sip of his and grimaces. 

    "You don't like it?" Clarke asks.

    "Wine isn't my favorite, but I can't order anything else here. Try it, maybe you'll like it." 

    Clarke looks at her glass, not enthused. She hasn’t drank since high school, not even when she went out to bars with Raven. She can’t imagine losing control of herself in any capacity, not with everything going on. But with thoughts of Lexa and Finn swirling around in her head, she longs for some escape. And looking at Bellamy, she knows she’d be taken care of. 

     "Who really cares, right?" She repeats what he said to her yesterday, before they were 'a thing,' as Raven called it.

    Clarke meets his eyes and sees what she thinks is understanding there. She takes a swig of the wine. It's bitter and warms her throat on the way down. She wills it to coat the guilt she feels in her stomach. 

    "I don't think I like it," Clarke says wincing. 

    Bellamy snorts. "I don't know how anybody can enjoy it, if I'm being honest. But I think you're supposed to smell it first and then try to taste the nuances in it. Not just swallow it immediately. Here, I'll do it with you." He raises his glass as if to toast.

    They each lift their wine to their lips and Clarke tries her best to taste what was once grapes. She still blanches. 

    They order their dishes and continue to have light conversation. Nothing about parents or politics, instead they talked about their childhoods. Bellamy talked about what it was like growing up with Octavia. How they would walk home from school with each other everyday and dress up in coordinated costumes on Halloween. She can feel him getting looser. His words aren't as calculated and he doesn't look so pissed off. Even Clarke can admit it's kind of nice.

     Maybe she could actually form a friendship with Bellamy Blake. 

    

* * *

    

    Bellamy doesn’t know where in the conversation he started telling her about himself. Once the information slipped out it just kept rolling off of his tongue. Maybe it was of the wine or the way her eyes kept looking off into the distance distracted. It made him want to hold her attention. 

    Clarke was acting weird tonight. He was pretty certain it wasn’t just because of her coursework. She wasn’t telling him what was really going on. He couldn’t place why it was bothering him so damn much.

   Of course, it could be whatever the hell Lincoln told her last night. He had drove home from the White House to find his house empty. Normally, Octavia and Lincoln would stick around for hours after meetings. The three of them would stay up talking until one of them would start nodding off. Sometimes they’d even spend the night which made his house feel less like the place he lived and more like a home. 

    Unfortunately, this meant he had to try and confront Lincoln today. The man didn’t answer any of Bellamy’s calls or texts. When Bellamy asked his sister where her ex-Grounder boyfriend was, she ignored him. Which, he should’ve seen coming with the way he phrased the question. 

    Bellamy tried to make up for it by saying he was going to take Clarke out soon, which Octavia clung to, an told him she had just the place in mind for that night. She refused to hear Bellamy’s explanation that he didn’t mean tonight. So now he was stuck here, trying to entertain a bored and distracted princess. 

    Before he knew it, he had an 8 p.m. reservation for the most exclusive restaurant in D.C. Even he’s heard of the place, and he hasn’t gone out to eat in years, it’s far too expensive. But if anyone could get them in, it was Octavia.

    "I didn't threaten to pull a knife on anybody, if that's what you're asking." Octavia had replied to Bellamy’s shock. 

    “I wasn’t, but that’s good to know,” he replied. 

    Clarke didn’t look thrilled about going out either, but she didn’t fight it. They took his Rover and parked it blocks away. Still, photographers found them anyway as they walked under the awning. They both covered their heads with their coats, but he’s certain they got a few worthwhile shots. Octavia really outdid herself this time. 

    Clarke went from being livid about the paparazzi to settled very quickly once inside the dimly lit restaurant. He couldn't place any emotion on her face. She just looked guarded. But, he found it hard to focus on just her face. She wore a tight red dress that showed a little more cleavage than he was comfortable with and strappy heels. Still, he refuses to call her attractive, even to himself.

    "I wish I had a sibling sometimes. You and your sister seem close," Clarke says. 

    "You could say that. But it took us a long time to get to the place we're at now," Bellamy says. 

    "It’s nice. The closest thing I had to a sibling was Wells," she says, now looking down at her food. 

    Bellamy tenses up. For some stupid reason wants to tell her it's all his fault. Wells, Jasper, her pain. Like maybe her forgiveness would cure him, or at least her knowledge of it would be the punishment he deserves. She shouldn't have to be fabricating this love story with him that isn't there. Especially when he's the monster who let her best friend die. 

    "I'm sorry about what happened to him." And he means it. 

    Clarke actually fucking smirks, but doesn't look up, "thanks Bellamy." 

    A beat passes in silence.

    "You're very close with Raven now though right?"

    Her smile widens, "yeah, I am."

    "That couldn't have just happened overnight."

    "It didn't, but it didn't really form until we both started losing people. I talk to her everyday. I feel like she knows what I'm feeling before I even know sometimes. She's the person I trust most in this world." 

    "You guys talk like you're all each other has," 

    Clarke looks him dead in the eye, "that's because in a lot of ways, we are. I have my mom still yeah, and Raven has Sinclair, but other than that we're all each other has left." She stills, processing what to say next. 

    "You don't have to share if you don't want to. It's only our first date," Bellamy teases. 

    "Yeah, but I want to," she says earnestly. "After my dad died I was in a dark place...that's when all of that stuff with Finn happened. And then I lost Wells on top of that and I thought I had no one. Then Finn's ex-girlfriend reached out telling me how she was so sorry about how he was acting and how she never realized how twisted he could be. We became really close after that. Initially united by the same psycho, but after that, we realized we were similar people. We have a lot of the same values and outlooks on life. And her mind is the thing I love most about her. She’s the smartest person I know.”  

     "Wait, so you're saying Raven used to date Finn?" Bellamy asks, his eyes wide, finally connecting the dots. 

    Clarke laughs, "yeah. Kane didn't tell you? That's probably the only redeeming thing about what happened; I met my best friend. I don't know where I'd be today without her." Clarke says while swirling the dark liquid her wine glass.

    By the time they've finished their dinner she has a little more color in her cheeks. She's smiling more and Bellamy suspects she's a least a little tipsy. 

    Despite her newfound cheeriness, he still needs to figure out what the hell is going on. 

    They make their way outside and are confronted with photographers once again. He presses her to his side and she surprises him by melting into it. He lets her lean into him and she wraps her arm around his back. It's a delicate gesture and Bellamy can hear a few "aww"s from the crowd. That's when Clarke reaches up and kisses him on the cheek. 

     He stills and looks down at her after. Her eyes are soft and her face is flushed. He suspects that will be front page on the tabloids tomorrow. Still, he's not mad at her. They have to make this thing look believable and right now she's doing a very good job. 

    Together, they walk down the street to his car, Clarke pressed to his side the whole way. 

    Back at the White House the Secret Service looks at them differently. Not overwhelmingly so, they mind their own business, but Bellamy notices a few side eyes and glares from the staff. Clarke doesn't appear to notice, the alcohol she had is making her less aware and a tad wobbly. He has to admit, it does worry him. But he did order the biggest glasses of the strongest wine on the menu and she said herself that she doesn't drink. Maybe Clarke just doesn't have any alcohol tolerance.  

    It doesn’t feel right just to leave her in the lobby tonight like he usually does. They were out late and there are less people in the White House overall. He allows her to use him like a crutch all the way up to her bedroom. When they stop at her door, she turns around to face him and leans into the doorframe.

    They stare at each other for a moment. Her eyes rounded and her mouth impossibly pouty. A flicker of emotion passes over her face before she lunges for him.

    To Bellamy's surprise, she envelopes him in a hug. She lays her head gently on his chest and just stands there with him for a moment before he takes one arm and wraps it around her too. 

    "What's wrong, Clarke?" He asks after half a minute. 

    She doesn't pull away, but she goes rigid.

    "I promise I'll tell you about it...tomorrow. Let me just have this right now."

    So he does.

 

* * *

 

    After saying her goodbyes to Bellamy, Clarke slogs her way over to her bed. She spends a moment watching her ceiling as she tries to process what the hell happened tonight. She didn't want to go on the date, not really, but she did agree to try out this whole phony relationship thing. Clarke thought she really just needed an escape. 

    Her mind drifts to the one thing she doesn’t want to think about: Lexa’s email. She didn't know how to talk about it with anybody, not even Raven...or Bellamy. 

    Lincoln warned her about this when he told her to stay on the lookout for any messages. Then the man mentioned Lexa and she was more confused than she was before. Still, she never thought the girl would contact her the next morning. Clarke shifts uncomfortably in her bed.

    Suddenly, she hears a crinkle that's never been there before. She hopes the wine hasn’t made it so she’s hearing things differently now too. Clarke starts moving all of her blankets and sheets looking for the culprit. She lets them all fall on the floor. She’s almost hyperventilating. She knows, with striking clarity that someone has been in her space. She feels watched.

     Then, she finds it under her pillow. 

     Her hands shake as they open an envelope with her name on it in familiar script she can't seem to place. 

     Out pour photographs of her and Bellamy. There's one from every day they've been together. Clarke flips through them as her heart palpitates. The first is one is of them on the campus taken from outside coffee shop. One of them on their way to her genetics class. One of them walking down the streets of Georgetown with moony eyes. And one of them in the car before they went to the restaurant tonight. 

    Clarke gets past the last one to find a folded up letter. She gulps as her eyes scan Finn's handwriting that simply says " _read alone_ ". She glances around her room, knowing she should call Bellamy, but opens it anyway.

         

     _Clarke,_

_I'll never know why he is enough for you and I wasn't. I know what you've been up to. I know everything you've done. The President's perfect angel of a daughter when in reality you're nothing but a whore who breaks the hearts of people who love her. One day you'll realize what a mistake you made leaving me. But don't worry, I won’t let him hurt you. He’s not a good man. I know I should let you make your own mistakes, but I can’t stand seeing you with him. Don’t be afraid, I’m going to save you. I always will._

    Clarke lets the letter fall to the ground as she screams out Bellamy’s name. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short but important chapter for you guys. I'm really loving how much you guys are liking it so far! As always thanks for reading!!!!


	5. Chapter 5

     Bellamy takes the stairs two at a time. He doesn't know how many people are behind him, he just knows he's getting there first. 

     They had all heard her from downstairs. Kane, and a few Secret Service agents were in the lobby going about their usual routine. Just a few seconds ago, he was livid Kane wanted to discuss the details of Clarke and his ‘arrangement’. Before they could get into it, they all heard Clarke cry out his name.He had pushed it to the back of his mind. All that matters is making sure Clarke is safe. 

    He bursts through the door to her room. He only left a few minutes ago, but in that time Clarke's room has become a chaos of linens littering the floor. Her eyes flick up to meet his and he sees nothing but panic on her face.

    "He's been here," she croaks. 

    "Who Clarke?"

    "Finn," she chokes out.

    "How do you know?" He asks as he rushes towards her. 

     They're standing a foot apart as she bends down and picks up a piece of paper with a trembling hand. He watches her crouch down, and he gasps as he sees the photographs at her feet. He takes them in one by one. There's one as recent as a few hours ago. 

    Finn Collins was in her bedroom while they were out at dinner. 

    The others are in the room now. They crash through shouting and radioing in that they've found Clarke in good condition. He can't take his eyes off of her as the Secret Service sweep the entire room overturning everything in it. As if she's not traumatized enough. 

    Bellamy grabs the photographs and she holds the letter as he escorts them out of her room. 

    Kane meets them in the hallway. He doesn't say anything as he rushes them into the upstairs safe room. It's a dark and cold makeshift living room. The door swings shut with a tinny clang. The three of them stand there awkwardly waiting for someone to speak.

    Clarke places the note down on the table before sitting on the couch.

    "He left them under my pillow," she says, staring at the letter. He notices she's clasping both of her hands in her lap, but they still betray her and shake. 

    Kane and Bellamy glance at each other briefly before focusing their full attention on her.

    "What happened, Clarke?" Bellamy asks. He wishes she'd just look at him. 

    She doesn't.

    "I laid down on my bed for a minute after we-, I got in. I moved and that's when I heard a crinkle. I tore off all of my sheets before I found an envelope with my name on it. It was in his handwriting," Clarke trembles. "I opened it and that's when I saw the pictures. And then I found the letter," she's still eyeing the flimsy looking paper.

     Bellamy focuses on it now too. It's just regular printer paper folded into a rectangle. He notices some writing on the outside and flips it over. He sees "read alone" in sloppy cursive before glancing back up at Clarke. 

    She finally dares to meet his eyes. 

    He snatches the letter and opens it up, reading it as quickly as he can. Within seconds he's more concerned for Clarke's wellbeing than he thought was possible. He scans her entire body looking for any marks or places she could be injured. 

    "Bellamy, I'm okay," Clarke says, almost smiling, but it doesn't touch the rest of her features. Her eyes are the most defeated he's ever seen. 

    "He wants you dead, he said as much in the letter" she says staring straight through him. "You should go and let the Secret Service take it from here. It's not safe for you to be around me right now." 

     Kanelooks back and forth at the two of them. Bellamy passes the photos and the letter to him. He takes a prolonged moment to read it.

     "This boy isn't well," Kane says. Both Clarke and Bellamy glare at him for stating the obvious. 

    "Listen Clarke," Bellamy begins, "I'm fine. I'm not the one he wants. I'm the one in his way, and I'm going to stay in his way until he's gone." 

    "You read what he said! He broke into my room, Bellamy! My bedroom in the fucking White House! Not even the President's defenses can stop him. We don't know what will. You shouldn't be risking your life like this when there's an active death threat against you."

     Clarke stands and stares him down. He's not about to be intimidated by either her or a delinquent who won't take no for an answer. 

    "You should be worried about yourself, not me. I can take care of myself," 

    Just then, the metal door swings open. In marches two Secret Service agents flanking the President. Her eyes immediately find Clarke, but she doesn't move to comfort her. Instead she takes a few steps forward while her S.S. agents hang back. The four of them make a dysfunctional circle. 

    "Bellamy, I want to introduce you to President Abigail Griffin," Kane says. In Bellamy’s time since he was in the service, he never assumed he'd meet another president. And he certainly never thought he'd meet one under such extreme circumstances. 

    "Mr. Blake, it's a pleasure to finally meet you," she says as she moves to shake his hand.

    He considers not taking it. He sure as hell doesn't want to. Not after all of the horrible things she's sanctioned and her insincerity through the whole process. Plus, this isn't the time for trivial formalities.He knows who the president is, and he's pretty sure she knows everything she wants to about him too. Still, he closes his grip around her hand. It's small and delicate, but packs a firm clasp. 

    "It's nice to meet you, President Griffin,"

    "Now that that's out of the way, does anyone mind telling me what's going on?" she asks. 

    "There was a break in. It appears Collins broke into Clarke's room this evening while she was out. He left her an envelope containing pictures he's taken over the past week and a menacing note," Kane explains.

    "Are you alright?" She asks Clarke.

    "Yeah, mom, I'm fine. Just a little shaken."

    Kane reaches over and gives Abby Griffin the pictures and the letter. She flips through them immediately.

    "Who is in charge of the night security here? And how did this happen?" Abby asks.

    "That would be Pike, and we're not sure yet. I just wanted to get Clarke in a safe place as fast as I could."  

    "And she is. So who should we consult now?"

    "There should be somebody watching the cameras at all times," Kane informs. 

    "Well, let's go find them," Clarke says, looking to Kane to lead the way.

 

    They move as a unit through the halls decorated with portraits of dead presidentsuntil they make it to a small room with computer monitors everywhere. They walk in as a balding man is lead out of the room by Pike and two other unfamiliar faces. Pike nods at Bellamy as he passes by.

    "Well, looks like we need a new camera guy," Kane says, walking out of the room to trail Pike.

    Bellamy walks back over to stand next to Clarke. She doesn't look at him. Instead, she's watching the live security footage of the illuminated grass outside of her room. Her eyes flick over to her mother, who is also invested in the monitors.

    Kane walks back in the room within minutes trailed by a different agent. He nods his head at both Clarke and the President before taking the empty seat and scooting closer to the keyboard. The man doesn't say anything as he pulls up archived footage from outside of Clarke's room. 

    The four of them watch in silence as he rewinds the tape. There's a flicker of movement on the screen, bigger than just a bird or a leaf. The agent slows the speed down and they all watch in horror as Finn Collin's sneaks around the backyard of the White House. 

    He takes notice of the time stamp at the bottom of the screen, 10:13 p.m. Less than half an hour before he got back with Clarke. 

    Bellamy takes in all of the other monitors around them. There's multiple angles of the lobby, the front lawn, and the entirety of this block of Pennsylvania Avenue. He’d been in the room before once or twice before back when he worked here, but he didn’t make frequent trips. Then again, no one had broken into the White House during his two years working in the Secret Service either. In a fucked up way, this situation had helped him out. Now, he’d finally gotten more than just a picture of Finn Collins. 

    Before tonight, he knew the kid had long wavy hair and was about 5’9”. Sure, he’d memorized his face and features, but that’s nothing compared to the importance of knowing how he moved. The way he looked when he gracelessly stalked around the yard. The way his head was too big for his his boyish physique. He knew more now than he had just an hour ago, but as he takes another look at Clarke, he can tell it was at a steep cost. 

    Just then the agent finally speaks up. "I took note of when he entered and exited. I'm going to have agents reinforce the perimeter and find out how and where he got in. We'll clean up the yard and lock up anything and everything that could be used as a tool or a weapon." 

     "Thank you. I'll let Pike know you've taken over here for the night."

    Bellamy watches as the two men shake hands. They all follow Kane out of the room but quickly stop once they're met with Deputy Director Pike in the hall. 

    "You have to go," Pike informs Clarke.

    "Go where?" Clarke asks, her voice raising an octave at the end. "This is where I live!" 

    "You can't stay here after what transpired tonight. We're already going to have to increase security as it is. Right now, you're a giant liability to the President, and you'll be more of one if you stay," Pike says. Abby shoots him a dirty look. 

    "Don't you ever say that about my daughter again," she sharply replies. 

    "I'm sorry Madam President, I'm only speaking from a place of experience," Pike replies.

    "And I'm speaking as your Commander and Chief, Charles. Don't you ever say anything like that about her again if you want to keep your job here."

    Abby doesn't say anymore, but her eyes bore straight through him. She doesn't stop until he caves. 

    "Understood, ma'am. I apologize to both you and Clarke," he says switching his attention between them both, neither look amused. He clears his throat. "I'm going to go make sure our new camera guy knows how to do his job right," Pike says, making a quick exit.

    "Abby, I think it might be in Clarke's best interest if she leaves for a least a day or two," Kane says after a minute of awkward silence.

    "You're not making this decision for us, Marcus."

    The two bicker back and forth to each other like an old married couple. Bellamy can't help but feel he and Clarke intruding on an intimate moment between the two of them. 

     As some of the worlds biggest leaders continue to have a stand off, Bellamy takes a moment to look at Clarke. She meets his eyes and he mouths a ‘you okay?’ She nods, but he doesn’t quite believe it. 

     “Fine,” Kane says. Bellamy snaps his head back over to them. “I'll make sure Pike knows and we’ll have someone completely check the inside and outside of your room. They'll have to station people outside on the lawn-” 

    "I would hope they already are," Abby retorts. 

    “Clarke," Abby turns her attention to her daughter, "you can stay here as long as you want to.” 

     Clarke stiffens. “No, it's okay. I should leave, mom.”

    Abby scrunches her forehead. "Don't listen to Pike honey, he's just mad he's not the lead director. I want you to stay."

    "And I want you to stay safe, mom. I'll leave tonight. Bellamy will protect me. Besides, I'm not the important one here."

     “I don’t want to hear that anymore. I’ve told you before that’s not true.”

   “Okay, but I want to leave tonight. It’s my decision to make,” Clarke meets her with determined eyes.

   After a moment Abby sniffs and nods. “You have to stay safe,” she looks to Bellamy. “You have to keep her safe.”

     He meets her eyes. He should just nod and say that he will, but something about the way her eyes are pleading makes him pause. For the first time he’s seeing President Griffin as a mother who desperately wants her child to be safe more than anything else.

     Bellamy nods, “I’ll protect her with my life if I have to.” 

     Abby collects herself. The Griffins take a long look at each other before Abby excuses herself and travels up the hall to her office.

    "Bellamy? Do you have a weapon on you right now?" Kane asks as they walk to the lobby. Knowing full well almost anything he would be carrying right now is illegal in D.C.

    "Are you sure want to know the answer to that question?" Bellamy asks.

     Kane huffs, "good." 

     With that, the Vice President takes a sharp turn into an office. He and Clarke are left in the middle of lobby, wondering what the hell to do next.  

 

* * *

 

     Within an hour, Clarke and Bellamy have made detailed preparations to leave. He's called what must be every member of his team to update them on the situation, and she takes the opportunity to change out of her date clothes and into new clothes retrieved by a Secret Service agent. Bellamy gives her a disapproving look as she swoops into the nearest bathroom.

     Bellamy steps into the doorframe and puts his hand over the phone's receiver.

    "I'm not letting you out of my sight right now."

    "I have to change," she says, holding up her comfortable clothes.

    "I'll turn around, but I'm not leaving you alone in this place."

    She grumbles a protest, but she knows she can't win this fight. 

    She's hyper aware of his presence as she shucks off her clothes and changes into joggers and a hoodie. 

   As they head out of the bathroom, Clarke notices Bellamy looks particularly intense. He offers to bring his car around so they can pack up and go, but before they can make arrangements to leave, Kane rounds the corner again with a familiar staffer, Harper. 

    Clarke narrows her eyes as she watches the two swiftly approach them. 

    "Clarke, there's someone I'd like you to meet," Kane begins.

    "Harper?" Clarke asks as she stares at the girl she met at the State of the Union party. Harper shifts uncomfortably.

    "Yes? You two know each other? Well, good. That actually makes this easier then," Kane says.

    "Why?" Clarke asks. 

    "We need to throw Finn off of your trail tonight. We still haven't located him, but with the photographic evidence he provided, we suspect he's watching your every move. So we'll give him a run for his money," 

    Bellamy and Clarke both give him the same puzzled look.

    "I think we need a body double for Clarke. Someone who can stay in a guest room and live in the White House while you're gone. I saw Harper and I thought you two looked similar enough. She's agreed to stay here and be you," he says as he points to Clarke, "for as long as you're gone. Of course, she won't go to school or do public appearances on your behalf. You two don't look similar enough for that," Kane smiles, obviously trying to lighten the mood. None of them laugh. 

    Kane coughs and straightens his tie, "we'll alert your school that you won't be in for at least a few days, and Bellamy has agreed to keep you far away from the public eye." 

    Kane and Bellamy exchange nods as Abby walks back through the lobby. All of the agents milling about straighten their backs as she makes her way back over to their little group.   

    "I see you've gotten your things," she says. 

    "I have, Monroe packed it," Clarke motions over to the girl.

    Abby doesn't bother to look, she turns her attention over to Bellamy, "take good care of her. She can be a little stubborn sometimes, but she's a smart girl," she says, grinning at Clarke.

    Clarke scoffs.

    "I will," Bellamy answers.

    During their goodbyes, Clarke makes a point to pull Harper aside.

     "You don't have to pretend to be me while I'm gone," 

    Harper gives her a soft smile, "I think it's my patriotic duty to help out in this time of need."

    Clarke looks at her stunned for a few seconds, before she evens out her features. 

    "Thank you Harper, I promise I won't leave you here for long."

    "Take as long as you need," Harper says.

    Most of agents move to the door as Bellamy brings his Rover around. Clarke waits watching the driveway by a hall table. After finally seeing the blackness of his car approach Bellamy hops out and takes Clarke's bag from her as she trails not far behind

    "Clarke," Abby calls out as she's stepping out the door.

    "Yes mom?" Clarke asks, stopping to look at her.

    Abby gives her a watery smile, "I love you."

    Clarke feels her stomach do a little flip. She can't help but feel like it's a goodbye.

    Clarke returns her smile, "I'll be back mom. See you soon."

    With that, she turns her back on her mother and follows Bellamy out to his car. 

    

    Clarke's watching the D.C. traffic lights pass by, still trying to process everything that happened tonight, when Bellamy starts speaking. She doesn't hear him at first. So when he takes his hand and taps her knee she jumps at his touch. 

    "Don't do that," she says.

    "You weren't answering me,"

    "You were talking?" 

    "Yeah Clarke, for a little while now," he looks at her with annoyance. 

    "Sorry," she mumbles. "What were you saying?"

    He sighs, "I was asking if you had any preference for where we should go tonight. Any ideas?"

    Now's the perfect time to tell him about Lexa's offer. All Clarke has to do is let him know Lexa offered to let them stay with the Grounders. That she's granting them protection from Finn. But she can't bring herself to say it yet. She looks down at her hands and tries to think of the next best thing she could say. 

    "Really? Nothing?" He asks.

    "I mean, we could get a hotel room, or we can go stay with Raven. I know she'd let us stay as long as we need to." 

   "Nope. We can't do either of those options. One, hotels are too public and I'm not renting a hotel room with you. And two, I made a promise to Raven that as long as I'm around you're not going in her ticking time bomb of an apartment." 

    "Oh come on, she's pretty good with them and I trust her. She wouldn't do anything to hurt me and her apartment is about as off the grid as you can get."

    "Still a no Clarke," he sighs. "For now at least we're going to have to go to my house. I can park the car in the garage and we can set the alarm and pull all of the shades down. It's as good a place as any to hide away." 

    She snorts, "you think Finn hasn't looked up where you live?" 

    "It wouldn't matter if he did, because he's not going to find where I live," 

    She looks at him, puzzled why he thinks he can escape Finn's crazy. She waits for his explanation. 

    "My house is very off the grid," he finally says. 

    "That doesn't explain-," 

    "It's not in my name, it's in my mother's." 

    Clarke snickers, "you live with your mom?" 

    "No, my mom's dead," he answers, deadpan.

    She stay quiet for a moment, waiting for him to say more. He doesn't.

    "Kids with dead parents club, huh," 

    "It's a fun place to be," he gives her a tight smile. 

    Not long after, they roll up to his house and he pulls into his 2-car garage next to an old beat up Jeep. He grabs her bag and doesn't turn on the lights as they make their way to his door. Clarke tries her best not to trip over any rocks or weeds that may be in his yard, but still stumbles. She looks down to see a red dog chew toy under her shoe. She moves her foot off of it and it squeaks. Bellamy jerks his head up and shoots her a scowl. She mouths a 'sorry' and quickly catches up to him as he unlocks his door. 

     They enter through the backdoor which leads into the kitchen. His dog comes running over, surprisingly quiet. The air inside of his house is cold and the kitchen is spotless, save for a few smatterings of dust on the table. The walls are all white and his floors are dark hardwood. Bellamy punches in a code onto a panel on the wall and she hears a feminine robotic voice announce "system armed." They walk through the kitchen, to the hall, and then the living room. 

    "So, this is my house," he announces. 

    She smiles, "I know, I was here yesterday."

    "Yeah, that's true. But you didn't get the grand tour then."

    "You don't know what your sister showed me," she teases. 

    "You're right, I don't. Should I be scared?" 

    "I don't think so," she smirks. 

    "Well, let me show you around," he begins, his hands gesturing around the room. There's a staircase leading upstairs and a front door in this room. They walk around the house, Bellamy showing her every room and every exit. She takes note of three bedrooms and three bathrooms, one very obviously being Bellamy's master bedroom, which he hesitated at giving a name to. He ended up at 'another bedroom.' 

    "So, you can pick whichever room you'd like to stay in, and if you'd like to know there's more protection than just me in the house, I can invite my sister and Lincoln over if it would make you more comfortable. And, uh, just so you know Murphy is here. He's in the basement right now, and he'll be watching the house all night." 

    Clarke shoots him a look. Of all of the members of his security team, Murphy is the one who really rubbed her the wrong way. She didn't feel like he was a trustworthy person with his slimy smile and the way he just seemed to lurk in the corner. But tonight she'll let it go and trust Bellamy's judgement on him. They could use the extra protection. She thinks about asking him to invite more people, but she doesn't want to see Lincoln before she's told Bellamy about Lexa. She almost asks if he could just invite Octavia to stay over with them, but holds her tongue. She'd probably bring Lincoln anyway.

    "I don't think any more people will be necessary," Clarke says.

     It's not like the twenty agents at the White House stopped Finn tonight. She fears no amount of extra protection would stop him if he found out where they were. God forbid, he's already found out what they drive. 

    After grabbing a couple of glasses of water from the kitchen they head up to bed. Clarke picks the room with only one window directly across the hall from Bellamy's. She takes an extra second to look at him from her chosen doorway. He waves to her and walks to his bed, leaving his room door open. 

    She briefly considers leaving hers open too, but eventually resolves that she'll feel less exposed if her door is closed. Now in complete privacy, she explores the room. A double bed decorated with an old quilt is pushed up against the wall and a tall bookshelf with only a few old classics on it. She approaches the window, careful not to disturb the blackout curtain in case someone is watching her outside. She tries to push the window up and down. She doesn't stop until her palms are sore. A tear slips out of her eye and she falls back on the bed behind her. 

    Clarke silently cries for Wells and her father. She cries for the way her mother and her have become distant since she took office. She cries for the way her mother said 'I love you' tonight like she was never coming home. She cries for the way Harper said it was her 'patriotic duty'. She cries for leaving her while running away from a man who has successfully broken into the White House. And most of all, she cries for herself.

    She cries for the teenager who had to file a restraining order at the age of 17. She cries for the 21 year old that came home after a 'date' to find a note from a stalker in her own bed. She cries lack of security she feels and the trauma she'll now carry with her forever.

    Eventually, Clarke runs out of tears and curls up under the quilt on the bed. She doesn't know how long she lays there silently willing sleep to come, before she crawls out of bed and goes over to the bookshelf looking for anything to take her mind off of Finn. Three pages into The Odyssey, she knows it won't help. 

    She gets up and plods her way to Bellamy's door. To her surprise, he's not in his bed. She enters the bedroom and looks around at all of his things. He's got bookcases upon bookcases full to the brim and the room doesn't feel as barren as the rest of the house. She stops at his dresser and picks up one photograph of what she assumes is of him and a young Octavia with a slightly older woman who looks too similar to them to be anything but their mother. She places it back down.

     After a few minutes, a wave of panic starts to wash over Clarke. She's pretty sure he hasn't taken a quick trip to the bathroom. She checks the third bedroom and bathroom, but he's not there. She tries not to run down the stairs to no avail. She skids to a halt when she sees someone sitting on the couch. She can feel her pulse pounding in her ears. The figure is masculine and tall, and she seizes up with panic. 

    She lets out a long held breath when she realizes it's none other than Murphy. She twists around the couch to see his face. He's asleep. She can feel her blood pressure start to rise again.

     She kicks his leg and the man jolts awake with a gasp.

    "Where's Bellamy?" Clarke asks in a hushed tone.

    "Well good morning to you too," Murphy says, now lifting his arms up to stretch.

    "Murphy, where is he?" 

    "Woah, chill, we just switched places for a bit. He's down in the basement."

    Clarke doesn't thank him as she flies down the staircase. 

    She finds Bellamy, dressed in nothing but lounge pants, surrounded by three computer monitors.

     She would blush if she wasn't already flushed from crying. His eyes are captivated by something on the middle screen. He peels his eyes away to look at her. His eyes are bloodshot and he looks exhausted.

    He looks startled before he clears his throat. She walks closer.

    "Clarke, are you okay?" 

    She smiles and lets out a humorless laugh, "I've been better." 

    She takes a seat in the empty chair next to him. Her eyes widen at the screen. He's rewatching the recording of Finn breaking into her room. Right when it finishes, he drags the mouse to the beginning and restarts the video.

    Bellamy doesn't say anything as they both sit captivated by the images.

    Clarke's breathing shallows as Finn crouches around in the shadows. A minute goes by before he clumsily opens the window and falls inside. She feels sick to her stomach as she wonders what else he could've done while in her room. He's in and out within a minute, but the thought still disgusts her. 

    "What do you see that I don't?" Clarke asks. She knows it's a loaded question.

    He huffs. "We're seeing different things?"

    "No, I mean, what are you looking for?"

    "I'm watching the way he moves." 

    "Huh?" 

    "The way he sulks around the yard. The way he looks when he walks and climbs. Criminals are known for changing up their looks and wearing disguises, but not many think about the way they move. It can be more important than even their appearance."

    Clarke nods in understanding, liking his honesty. 

    She silently sits with him, trying to notice the nuances in the way Finn moves. She lost count of how many times he’s replayed the video, and she has no idea how many times he watched it before she came down. She takes time to look at the other monitors, all showing live feeds of the outside of his house. He really did make this house like a fortress, but it isn’t enough protection. And it won’t be easy to escape here either.

   “I have to tell you something,” Clarke begins, her eyelids growing heavy. 

    Bellamy doesn’t answer. She glances over to find him asleep with his head resting in his palm. 

    She looks at him, considering how much danger she's putting him in. Not just him, but his whole team, including his little sister. Finn only wants to force her to love him, but he wants to kill Bellamy. She refuses to have his death on her conscious. She needs to find a way to keep him safe, to get him out of her mess. She thinks her only answer might be with the Grounders, with Lexa.

    She gives him a soft smile. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know tomorrow.” 

    She stays up watching the monitors for another half an hour before she’s claimed by sleep as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess White House security ain't shit under Pike's watch. Who woulda guessed?


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

     Someone is sitting in a chair on a small screen in front of Clarke when she comes to. Clarke moves closer and closer to the monitor. The girl on the screen looks so real and so familiar. 

    "Clarke," Lexa chokes out, composing herself almost immediately. "I'm recording this today in hopes this video will still find you. I know he's back, Clarke. I’ve been watching...” 

    Clarke strains to hear. Lexa’s voice and the video are becoming distant. She tries to run after it, but it’s like she’s stuck in place, unable to ever reach her again. Clarke’s legs become heavy and soon she can’t move them at all. She just watches as Lexa’s face becomes smaller and smaller until she’s completely gone into a black abyss.

    Her head is pounding and her body is cold. Clarke lifts her eyelids to find the seat next to her now unoccupied. She picks her head up off the wooden desk and glances around the basement looking for Bellamy. He’s not down there. 

    She rubs her forehead and stretches out her legs. The monitors are still lit up, but the middle one is now just a blank home screen.  She considers bringing up the email again to make sure it wasn’t all a dream, but then dismisses it. Bellamy probably checks of the history on his computers compulsively. 

   She sees movement out of the corner of her eye and flicks up to look at her right side monitor. There’s four live footage squares displaying the outside of the house. She quickly finds Bellamy playing with his dog in the backyard with the chew toy she tripped over last night. She smiles at the two of them on the screen. 

   She takes a moment just watch the livefeed. He's smiling and he's talking to Juno as they play fetch. She watches for a long minute before she makes up her mind. She doesn’t want to ruin the moment, not really, but she's sick of keeping him out of the loop. He's an important person in this dynamic too, and she doesn't know how to protect him from Finn if he doesn't agree to go to the Grounder's camp. 

   Lexa's offer seems solid to Clarke. She had promised to protect the everyone in Clarke's entourage. And oddly Lexa seemed so sincere about it. She was never one to wear her emotions on her sleeve and seeing her struggle to keep her composure on screen spoke volumes.

     She knows she shouldn't be so quick to trust her, not after how they ended. But Clarke needs answers about what happened to her almost as much as she needs a safe place to figure out how she can keep Bellamy and crew safe.  

   She walks up from the basement and quickly runs into the whole crew, save for Bellamy. Murphy is still there, and now so is Monty, Miller, Octavia, and Lincoln. Clarke tenses up; the last thing she needs is an audience for her conversation with Bellamy. 

    Clarke plasters a fake smile on her face while greeting them all. Somehow, she feels like they can all see right through her. Bellamy trained his crew well. Octavia reciprocates, giving her what seems like another forced smile. She watches Clarke as she greets Monty and Miller, who are both pleasant and welcome her to the fold, but still feel distant. Murphy gives her a glare, probably still pissed about the whole kicking incident this morning.

     She drops her smile when greeting Lincoln. But to her surprise the man just nods and strides back to the living room and stands by Octavia. It gives Clarke a straight shot to the backdoor. 

    She inhales deeply and strides to the backyard. 

    It’s the first time she’s seen it in the daylight. The fence must be at least eight feet high and there's a small patch of grass where she finds Bellamy and Juno still playing. 

    "Hey," Clarke says about from about three yards behind Bellamy. Her mom is always on her about making more small talk before delving into business. 

     He pauses and turns around to give her a tight smile, "hey yourself. How'd you sleep?"

     She snorts, "like shit. And you?"

    "Like shit," he repeats. She’s decided she’s had enough small talk. 

    "I need to tell you about a message I got yesterday," she says, meeting his dark eyes.

    "What was it?"

    "It was from my ex... Lincoln has warned me she might be in contact soon." She realizes afterwards that she let Lexa's gender slip. 

    He slightly cocks his head to one side with a wears a puzzled expression. He recovers quickly and his face is neutral once again. "Go on," he says, his teeth slightly gritted.

     "I didn't realize she was going to message me so soon, but I should've known. She reached out to me yesterday before our fake date,” 

     Bellamy stands straighter and his eyes flare up with something resembling anger as he looks back towards the house. "I knew something was going on with Lincoln. That son of a-," Bellamy says before squeezing his eyes shut, and opening them again, looking at her softer than he was a minute ago, "sorry, please, keep going." 

    "She says she can promise us safety,"

    "And you believe her? What makes you think your  _ex_  is going protect you better than I can?" 

    She knits her brows together, "you’re invited too. She invited my people, and if I recall correctly, you’re still my fake boyfriend.” 

    He shifts his weight and tenses his jaw, looking behind her. 

   “She’s a great fighter, Bellamy,” Clarke adds, a little desperate. “And she offered to let us stay off the grid...in the Grounder's camp."  

    His eyes widen and he opens his mouth the speak, but she interjects before he can.

    "I know, it sounds crazy. But, she knows about Finn. She's been watching him for me for years. She knows he’s unhinged, Bellamy, and I want us to have the best chance of beating him.” 

    “Forgive me princess, but I don’t think hanging out in a camp with a bunch of eco terrorists is the safest place for the President’s daughter to be,” he says sharply. 

    She recoils before she flares up again. “You know what, it’s not. But what else are we supposed to do? Stay here in hiding for the next who knows how long? You're putting your home, and everyone in it, at risk staying here. The camp is the least likely place for us to be."

    She hears the screen door slam shut behind her. She snaps her head around to find his whole team standing on the small set of stairs leading up to the house. They're all glaring at Monty who is shrinking by the door. She turns her attention back to Bellamy. 

    She rushes towards him and grabs his wrist. He glances at everyone by the door while she drags him to the back of the yard. 

    “Clarke, what the hell?” He says as he barely resists her pull. 

    “I’m not having this discussion in front of them right now. This is just between you and me.” 

    “And Lincoln apparently,” he scoffs. 

    “Lincoln just knew she was trying to get in touch with me, nothing else. I want to talk about it with you because I actually give a shit about what happens to you.” 

    “Think about it! Your ex, who is a member of a _terrorist organization_ , wants you to come and stay. You know not even the US government can get an accurate number of how many there actually are. What if something happens to you while we’re in that camp? Do you think I’d be able to live with myself knowing there was another option?” 

    “But what if there isn’t another option? Finn is gonna figure out we’re here Bellamy, if he can break into the White House, he can find your house.” 

    “I’m going to have to talk about this with the whole team later.” 

    “We have to agree before the meeting. The whole crumbles when leadership is divided.” 

    He snorts, “you aren’t the leadership here, princess. Nate and I are. But you’re welcome to the meeting if you can take other people’s concerns into consideration.” 

    Clarke frowns at him, he just doesn’t get it. “You need to think about both your safety and mine, and theirs." She says, pointing over to his team. "It's a good plan, Bellamy. Finn won't be able to find us there. Literally no one except the Grounders know where that camp is. Plus, what would happen to me if something happened to you here?” She tries to reason. 

    "And what would happen to you if anything happened to me there?" He spits back. "I doubt you would be any safer there. You may not like it, but my house is fine for now. This is the end of discussion, Clarke." 

    He walks back into the house with his dog glowering at every member of his team on the way inside. 

 

     Everyone from Bellamy’s team hardly speaks after the fight, and when they do it’s in hushed tones. Clarke retreats up to her temporary room and she figures it’s well past time she calls Raven. Clarke barely hears a ring before she answers. 

    “Hey, I was starting to really worry about you, you know,” Raven says, her tone more serious than it normally is. Clarke doesn’t want to upset her, but she has a right to know what her ex has been up to.

    “Raven-” is all she can get out before her best friend interrupts.

    "What happened? Are you okay?  Was it Bellamy?" 

    "No," Clarke says, looking around his guest room, “the problem isn’t Bellamy,”

    "Then who? Did something happen with Finn, Clarke?"

    “Yeah," she breathes.

    "What did he do?"

    “Broke into my room. Left a cryptic note and pictures.” 

    “Oh my God, are you okay? What a fucking psychopath. Please tell me you’re safe?” 

    Clarke lifts the corner of her mouth. “I am. I’m at Bellamy’s. We had to go late last night and I didn’t want to wake you,” She wishes Raven was here instead of all of Bellamy's eccentric security team. She just needs someone in her corner. 

    “You didn’t want to tell me? I need to know about this kind of stuff. I’m coming over” 

    Clarke begins to say it’s not necessary, but stops herself short. Raven would be safer at Bellamy's than she is in D.C. Plus, she could make things interesting and more fair over here. She’s feeling selfish and she needs someone to have her back. 

    “Do you have a way to get to Arlington?” Clarke asks. 

     Raven snorts. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll find a way. If Sinclair won’t take me, I’ll take a cab. I’m going to see you.”

     Clarke smiles. “Thank you. And Raven, could you do a little digging on Bellamy’s house while you’re at it? I want to know where I am.” Raven will do more than just a little digging. Clarke fully expects to see the house plans in an hour. 

    “You got it. Send me the address and I’ll do some investigating before I get there. Are you going to tell Bellamy I’m coming?” 

    “Yeah, I’ll let him know.” Yeah, she’ll let him know when Raven is two seconds from knocking on the front door.

    “See you, Clarke. And please stay safe!” 

    “See you, Raven.”

    Clarke hangs up and stares up at the ceiling, wondering what the next step in her plan should be if Bellamy won't take her to the Grounder's camp. One thing is for sure in her mind, she's getting to Lexa with or without him. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

   

     After the shit show outside, he's on a mission to find Lincoln. He needs him to explain why the hell he kept something about their biggest fucking client from him. If the team went into a discussion well informed, they could've formed a unified front. One that could've squashed Clarke's bat shit crazy plan to go see the Grounders. Instead, she sprung it on him out of nowhere and he was left without an argument against her impossible idea.

     "Hey," Miller says as Bellamy walks past him, looking for Lincoln. 

     "How much of that did you hear?" Bellamy asks. He figures now is as good of a time as any to have a recap with his partner. 

     "Enough."

    Miller hands Bellamy a beer, which he promptly places on the kitchen table. He needs his mind to be clear right now. 

    "You heard about what the ex-Grounder did?" Bellamy asks.

    Miller nods, "I did, we need to have a conversation him,” Miller’s sour face expresses exactly how he feels about the whole thing. 

    Bellamy agrees, but he knows Octavia is going to be horrible after they finish having a word with her man. Too bad it's their company, not her's.

    "We should have a meeting later tonight, we need to discuss what Clarke said out there, as a team." Bellamy decides.

    "Sounds good. I'll rally the troops and we'll meet around 1800."

    Miller walks off first, on his way to talk to Murphy. Bellamy leaves the room too, with a renewed fury directed towards Lincoln.

     It seems like every place he looks, Lincoln had just left from. Bellamy finds Octavia first, in the kitchen whispering to Monty. She's definitely up to something. She smirks when she sees him approaching, and Monty walks off to the side, excusing himself. 

    "What, O?" He asks with a sigh.

    "Seems like you and Clarke are getting along."

    "That's what you got out of that conversation outside?" He retorts. 

    "It seems like me and her might have a lot in common after all. Falling for Grounders."

    "Octavia," Bellamy begins with a warning tone. 

    "Anyway, I think we ought to make that trip to the camp." Her tone shifts to serious very quickly. 

    He glares at her, "absolutely not."

    "Bellamy, think about it. This is our chance. We can use her to get into the camp. The Grounder's have a weak spot right now when it comes to her. Plus, I don't think they're going to kill another President's kid, although it would be ballsy." 

    "Octavia, this is a serious fucking mission. We can't keep her safe by going into their fucking den!" 

    "I get it, Bell. But I think everybody can get what they want out of this. We have our goals too, remember? Remember Jasper? " She narrows her eyes at her brother. Then, she looks over to the corner by the entryway, Monty approaches from the living room.

    “Don’t bring him into this,” 

    “You promised we would do something about him,” 

    "You mean revenge," Bellamy says right before Monty gets there.

    "Hey Bellamy," Monty says, meeting his eyes from under his thick brows. 

    "I expect you have an opinion on this too," Bellamy says.

    "Yeah, I do actually."

     "Please," Bellamy says, gesturing around them to the open space of the kitchen, "explain then."

    "I think we should go,"

    Bellamy huffs, "why?" He wants to give Monty, of all people, a fair chance.

    “Think about it Bellamy, it may be our only shot to get back at the Grounders for what they did to us, to Jasper. If they're responsible for his death..." Monty bites his lip and presses his hand to his chin, "we need to make sure nothing that can ever happen again."

    Bellamy crosses his arms. Monty knows he wants justice for Jasper. But they have no concrete evidence besides Bellamy's initial hunch. Now he knows Monty has taken that too far. 

     "I can't risk it. I have to think of Clarke right now," Bellamy eventually answers.

     "Bellamy, this might be our only chance. We can go in as a team instead of just me and Lincoln. All of us can be there, and we'll look out for one another," Octavia says with a look of almost pleading. "Clarke too," Octavia adds.

    "He was my best friend. I would do almost anything to get him back, and I will do anything to do right by his memory," Monty tells them.

     “I think he gets it,” Octavia says as Bellamy struggles to remain objective and unemotional. 

    "You weren't the only one who lost him." Monty reminds him. 

    They both start walking out of the room, leaving Bellamy in the kitchen. 

     “Octavia,” Bellamy says. She turns to meet his eyes. “Where is Lincoln?” 

     She just stares at him before walking away again.

     Bellamy finds Lincoln in the study, scanning bookshelves. 

    "I've been looking for you everywhere," Bellamy barks.

     He says nothing just turning to face Bellamy. 

    "You’ve been keeping secrets,”  he starts. 

    "It wasn't my secret to tell," Lincoln says.  

    "What the hell does that mean?" Bellamy asks, walking closer to him. 

    Lincoln faces him, "I didn't know what she was going to tell her. I only vaguely knew she wanted to get in touch with her.”

    Bellamy clenches a fist at his side, “but you didn’t think that was worth telling me?”

   Lincoln looks away again, “like I said, it wasn’t my secret. Clarke needed to hear it for herself.” 

   “Hear what? Do you know now?”

    Lincoln stills before he gives him a gentle nod. 

    Bellamy stands there, waiting for more explanation. When nothing comes, he leans into Lincoln’s space until the broad man is completely focused on him. “You told me a while ago that you had picked a side. Is that still true? Or should I kick you out now?” 

There’s only a beat of silence before Lincoln looks away and starts to talk. 

   “Clarke told you all of it, for the most part. Her ex invited us all to stay in a truce. She cares about Clarke, a lot. Lexa promised to give us a safe place to stay until the threat is gone.”

   “Lexa?” Bellamy asks, Lincoln meets his eyes and he thinks he sees a hint of panic there. “You’ve been in contact with their insane leader?”

    “She isn't the most insane one, and yes, I have. She’s the only one who has the authority to allow outsiders in.” 

   “You brought Octavia in without anyone's permission,” he reminds him. He still never fully forgave him for taking his baby sister off the grid for over a year. That fact alone will always leave a sore spot in his relationship with Lincoln. 

    Lincoln nods again, “I did. It was messy, but we managed. It's a lot different when you have clearance and a large group of people.” 

    Bellamy tries to look like he’s not entertaining the thought-because he isn’t. He’s just taking a moment to unpack what could happen while they were hypothetically at the camp. A lot of bad could happen, but potentially a lot of good could too. 

    “What did you tell Lexa about us?” Bellamy asks carefully. 

    Lincoln straightens his back, “she knows I joined your security team, but she’s known that for a while. She's had the Grounders make pretty sophisticated monitoring devices since she became their leader.  They know more about me than was ever possible when I was with them.” He takes a long moment to look at Bellamy, and he knows the Grounders must know about him too. 

    “And just how did you get in contact with her?” Bellamy tries to say without gritting his teeth. 

    “She sent an email to me. She told me she knew I was in contact with Clarke and that the Grounders were going to send a message to her."

    "And?" 

     "I wrote back. I told her I wasn’t sure she received it. I asked what she wanted from her and from us. She said someone in their camp wanted Clarke back." 

     Bellamy doesn't want to feel as protective over Clarke as he does. But what Lincoln is saying still bothers him. 

     "Their word is their bond." Lincoln says, "I don’t think they’re going to touch Clarke if we go there. I think it actually might be the safest place for us right now. Octavia and I both have connections there who wouldn’t hurt us, and who I know would defend us till their last breaths. I think we should go.” 

    Bellamy doesn’t respond. He turns around and leaves the room retreating to his comfort zone. He spends the rest of the day in the basement stewing. 

 

   A little while before their 6 p.m. meeting, he hears someone start stomping down the stairs. Everyone on the team knows to stay away from him when he’s like this. He turns his head to see who has the guts to approach him. First he sees her dark denim clad legs, and then her body, and he instantly knows who it is. Clarke’s blonde head appears at last and her blue eyes meet his. Never losing eye contact, she doesn’t stop walking until she’s right in front of him. 

    “I invited Raven to the meeting tonight,” she dares to say. 

    “You what?” Bellamy asks, his eyes widening.

    “I’ve told you before, this concerns her too. I should have some say in who attends a meeting about my future.” She doesn’t lose her ferocity as she speaks. 

    “Well, for right now, it’s our future. I’m not letting you go anywhere without me.” 

    “Okay, good, because I was considering leaving without you," 

     Bellamy's jaw goes a little slack. "How were you going to manage that?" 

     "I think a lot of your team thinks it's a good idea," she tells him. She purses her lips and cocks her head to the side, "but I don't think I have to, you’ve reconsidered the offer.” 

    He's taken aback. He has, but it's not because of her, it's because of everybody else. He doesn't think going to the Grounder's compound is going to do much but reopen old wounds for everybody. His team is almost completely sure it's the right option, and at some points today he couldn't recall why he was so against it. Looking at her he remembers, she's absolutely his first priority.

     He can't let her leave.

    "I've had a couple of conversations today that made things more complicated. They all know to stay away from me when I'm down here thinking." He says, moving to the desk. 

    "They probably do, but I don't really care. What concerns you concerns me right now, and we both know we have to be on the same page before this meeting." 

    He hates that she's right. They should agree on this beforehand, so the meeting isn't a complete disaster like it was last time. He reminds himself that if they go, they're not just going for her, they're going to seek justice for Jasper. 

    "You really think going to this camp is the best idea?" He asks carefully.

    Clarke nods, "I do," 

    "Okay, then we'll go. I want to trust you. So you better be right about this."

     "I am," Clarke states. She doesn't even look surprised.

     "Let's get this meeting started then. When is Raven coming?" 

    Clarke lifts her phone out of her pocket and checks what must be some tracking app. "She's almost here actually. How do you want her to come in?" 

    "Tell her to park at least two blocks away. I'll send one of our guys out to go get her. But next time, tell me you want to invite her beforehand so we can make arrangements to get her here. She's a major security risk and she has the potential to be followed. Please understand that." 

    Clarke nods. They lock eyes, and he doesn't think he's ever met anyone so determined or so overwhelming in his life. She has completely consumed his world in less than a week, and he wishes he was angrier about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so this chapter took a long time to edit because we don't wanna put out anything less than perfect for you guys. It's another heavy one, but I felt it was pretty necessary. Hope you enjoy!


	7. Chapter 7

 

     They agreed to leave in the early light of the morning.

     Clarke wakes to find herself in the guest room surrounded by people. Raven was wrapped up in a blanket by her side, her arm draped around Clarke's abdomen. Octavia and Lincoln are still asleep on the floor. And Bellamy's in a chair by the door, looking sound asleep. 

    Clarke lifts her head to read the clock: 4:26 a.m. She peels Raven's arm off of her, causing the girl to grumble and roll over. It gives Clarke the opportunity to step off the bed and run to the bathroom before this long day gets started. She passes the sleeping couple and is careful around Bellamy’s feet. He really gave no room for anyone to go in or out, but she supposes that was intentional. Just when she thinks she’s snuck all the way past him, a hand reaches out and catches her wrist. 

    She freezes and steadies her feet; it's just Bellamy. She shoots him a dirty look.

    "What?" She says, barely audible. 

    He steps out into the hall with her, never letting go of her wrist until they're in his bedroom. 

    “I need to see the video,” he begins. 

    Fuck. The video. “What video?” She asks innocently. She knows he means Lexa’s video. But she could really use just one more moment of life without bringing up her past. 

    Now he shoots her a look and she digs her heels in. 

   “Can’t you take my word for it?” Clarke asks, knowing it’s a poor argument. Especially when she’d already agreed to let him see it. 

   He had told her during the meeting last night that they couldn’t go to the camp until his team had all of the information. That meant they had to know what was said in the video, word for word. It was clear the information wasn't really for his team, it was for him. After another scuffle, she agreed to let Bellamy watch the video before they left in the morning. Octavia was the only one who opposed, wanting to see it herself. 

    He glares at her and she knows resisting is a lost cause. "I need to know exactly what we're getting into, before I can let us go,” he says. 

    She averts her eyes. It would be naive to assume he would go without some conditions, even if he already technically agreed to it. She spins around and walks out of his room and into the hall bathroom. She can feel his heat follow her, but she throws out a ‘just a minute’ through the door and he backs off. Her reflection is wild and splotchy, but she truly doesn’t care. If her fake boyfriend wanted to see her at her worst, than so be it. She washes her hands and face and opens the door.

    “Come on,” Clarke says, now the one grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the hallway. They make their way down the stairs as quietly as possible. 

    Once they reach the basement, Clarke sees that they're still not alone. Monty is watching the monitors and Murphy is asleep on a loveseat in a dark part of the large room. They must live like this all the time, piled on top of each other with no room to breathe. 

    Bellamy makes a motion to Monty to leave and the man complies almost immediately. He glances at Clarke before running up the stairs. 

   They sit down in front of the computers and Clarke glances at Murphy.

   “I don’t want him here for it,” Clarke says, crossing her arms. 

   “He’s asleep, princess.” 

    She narrows her eyes at him, “I agreed to let you see it. Not him. I’m not pulling it up if he’s here. He can sleep upstairs.” 

   They have a silent stand off for what feels like an eternity before Bellamy bangs his hand down on the table and she sees Murphy jolt awake. Bellamy turns his head to look over at him.

   “Get up, go upstairs,” he commands.

    Murphy lazily sits up on the couch, “why me?” 

    “I can’t have you down here during this. Princess’s orders.” He says, glancing over towards him. She glowers. 

    “Jesus, can I get sleep anywhere in this goddamn house?” He asks, but he does get up. He trudges from the couch to the stairs and doesn’t bother to look at them. 

   Bellamy glances over at her and motions to the keyboard. 

   She takes her cue and pulls up the video. 

 

\---------------------------------

 

   “Replay that last bit,” Bellamy commands. Clarke moves the cursor back five seconds to hear Lexa say something in the Grounder’s strange language. Clarke had never heard her speak it before this video. 

   “Play the whole thing again,” he says as the video ends. 

    Clarke gives him a questioning look. He gives her one to match and places his hand over her’s. Then he drags the notch on progress bar back to the beginning. She’s surprised by how rough his hand feels. 

   The video starts. Lexa wears a dirty looking tank top that shows off her tattoos. Her hair is in its usual style. Two miniature braids form on either side of her head that connect together in the back. 

     "Clarke," Lexa begins. Clarke wishes it didn't grate her as much as it does. It's been years, she should be over her. "I'm recording this today in hopes that this video will find you. I am sorry it took so long, and I'm sorry for what happened. But I know he's back,"

she says, her voice biting through the speakers. There was a time Lexa was her only safe space, and even now, she's not convinced that she isn't. “I've been watching him since I found out he hurt you. I’ve spoken with the others, and we want to extend an invitation for you to come and stay with us at the Grounder's camp. I will be in contact with Lincoln, and I trust his security team has kept you well for now. But I,” she pauses briefly, “we fear they do not offer enough protection. If you come and stay with us we can offer you our protection and the natural cover of the Earth.” Lexa finishes before Clarke pauses it.

     Clarke shifts her attention to Bellamy. His eyes are glued to the screen. 

    "Why do you think they care so much that you stay safe?" He asks. 

     She shrugs, she's not entirely sure herself, but she still answers. "I'm not sure. Lexa must have convinced them somehow." 

    "We're you guys..." he stops and takes a deep breath. "You must've been close."

    "Yeah, we were," she answers honestly. She's glad he cut himself off. She doesn't know why, but she is uncomfortable with him asking about their relationship.

   He sits back in his chair. "Keep playing it," he orders. 

   She rolls her eyes at his tone, but presses the play button again.

    “If you'd like to come and stay with us, please let Lincoln know. He knows how to contact me, as this line of communication will be dead after I send this video. Our camp is always moving to stay undetected, so you'll need an in to find us. Lincoln has agreed to be that for you. I ask that you'll let us know if you're coming by this Saturday before nightfall. I do hope to see you soon Clarke.  _Mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim_." Then the video cuts out. 

    “I think I can get Lincoln to translate that last part.” Bellamy says next to her.

    “I’ll tell him what she said.” 

    He shoots her a look. “How? I didn’t think you spoke the language Clarke.”

    “I’ve got a good memory for pronunciation.” It’s not really a lie, she’s had to remember how to pronounce quite a few complicated foreign names over the years. But she’s not as good at long phrases and has no idea how to repeat this one.

    He shakes his head, “he should be able to see it. He’s not a threat. And even if he was, he’s the one who has been in contact with your beloved Grounders. He should see this too.”

    Lincoln could tell her a lot about what they were getting themselves into. But she needs to hold Bellamy accountable to his word, and she agreed to only show him. 

     "You can record it. That's it. Or I'm deleting the email right now." She says, her hand hovering over the mouse on the trash icon.

     He narrows his eyes at her, "Fine. But don't be stupid and delete it, you might need it later." Whatever that means.  

   Clarke shakes her head and he whips out an old fashioned tape recorder from the top drawer of the desk. She physically has to restrain her arm to keep from hiding her face in the crook of her elbow. Of course he doesn’t have voice memos on his 2005 model cell phone. 

    She lets her hands rest in her lap as he pulls the video back a few seconds and presses record. She tries to focus on something else besides Lexa’s voice, and right now her only other option would be to focus on Bellamy. So she watches him as Lexa's voice fills the air around them. He looks so stoic and focused. 

    “Lincoln can still speak Grounder?” 

    “He better,” he mutters. 

    “How long has he been on your side?”

    He pauses for a moment before saying, “a couple of years." She has a feeling that's all she's going to get out of him right now. 

    "That should do it," Bellamy says, playing the soundbite. "Ready?" 

    "Ready," she replies. With that, they head upstairs to get some coffee and find Lincoln. 

 

\-------------------

 

     “You’re absolutely sure that’s what she said?” Clarke overhears Bellamy asks Lincoln again. She’s sitting with Raven and Monty at his kitchen table trying to maintain her composure. Her coffee sits cold and untouched in front of her. When they'd found Lincoln earlier, he swore Lexa had just wished them luck, but the look in his eyes told Clarke she'd said more. Perhaps something more personal, but she hadn't seen him without Bellamy or Octavia to ask. She sensed Bellamy felt that too, and that's why they're having their second 'meeting' without her.

    Monty sends her an apologetic look from across the table, like he’s sorry for all of this. Raven just sits back in her chair and takes a long breath.

    “We should’ve went with my plan,” Raven announces. She had the bright idea of infiltrating the tech in their camp. Everyone, including Clarke, said it was a bad idea.

    “Raven, none of us are tech savvy enough for that,” Clarke reminds her. 

    “I’m pretty good with computers,” Monty pipes up. They turn to look at him and then turn back to each other.

    “No offense Monty, but we'd need more than just you and Raven to make that plan work.”

    “I’m a quick learner.”

     Raven sends him a smirk and switches her attention to Clarke, “well, he has the spirit at least.” 

    “For the record, I liked your plan too. It’s just not the right time for it now,” he says, clenching his hands together under the table. 

    “Suit yourselves. Rewiring their camp is a good idea and you know it. I just wish your stupid fake boyfriend would let me come with you,” Raven says, lightly kicking the table. 

   “Please stop calling him that,” Clarke says, mentally trying to find a way this could all end well. 

   “It’s what he-“ Raven’s interrupted by Bellamy and Lincoln striding through the kitchen. 

    Clarke eyes meet Bellamy’s.

    “What did she say?” Monty asks.

    He takes a glance at Lincoln before answering, “he says it’s a wish for safe travel. That’s all.” Lincoln nods from behind him. She wishes she could read his face. She still has no idea what honesty looks like on that man. 

    “And we believe him?” Chimes Raven.

    “For now,” Bellamy says. It’s an obvious warning directed at Lincoln. 

    “Clarke,” Bellamy demands. She strides over to stand in front of him. “I need to talk to you before we go. In private,” he glances around the room, announcing it to all of them. 

    She walks around him towards the study. He follows her in. 

    “What did you wanna talk about?” She asks, as cooly as she can. 

    “Are you still sure you want to go today?” He asks.

     She furrows her forehead, “yeah, I am. I thought that was already clear.” She's gritting her teeth against arguing with him. He's the most trying and dramatic person she's ever met. 

    “I’m just making sure. We don’t have to go if you’re uncomfortable with it.” 

    “I’m not,” she tells him, mostly as a way to convince herself. “I think it’s our best option. And you need to think about yourself here too. It’s the safest place for all of us right now.” 

    “Raven’s still not going-” 

    “I know,” she replies before he’s even finished his sentence. “I didn’t ask for that right now. I just ask that we start moving.” 

    “Alright then. Can I see your phone?” He asks, holding his hand out. 

    She gives him an odd look and he gestures with his palm. She takes it out of her pocket and he snatches it out of her hand. 

     “Hey!” Clarke shouts after him. Immediately he turns it off and opens a small safe in the bookshelf she hadn’t even noticed. He slams the door shut and spins the wheel closed. “That’s the only way to contact my mom!”

   “More than just the essential people have your number, therefore it’s not a secure enough line. Here’s your new phone for now.” He says, passing her a flip phone and a piece of paper with a 10 digit number on it. 

    “I’ll take that,” Raven says, striding in and grasping the paper from behind him. She pulls out her phone and starts to put the number in. 

   “Don’t call or text her unless it’s an absolute emergency,” Bellamy says. “I mean real emergency.” 

    Raven rolls her eyes before handing the paper back to Clarke. 

    Raven then pulls Clarke in for a spontaneous hug. Clarke watches as Bellamy walks a few steps backwards and exits the room. After a moment, Clarke reciprocates and the girls hug each other tightly for a few seconds.

     “I brought you something,” Raven says against her blonde hair.

    Clarke pulls away. Raven grabs her hand and slips a small but still potentially deadly knife and a holster into the sleeve of her jacket. 

    “Raven, I-" 

    “Shhh, just take it,” Raven says, intensely looking into her best friend’s eyes. “Use it if you have to, you know where the major arteries are.”  

   Raven glances behind her to make sure nobody is watching. “I have a feeling you might not want to tell them you have this. Just keep yourself safe okay?” 

   Clarke looks at Raven giving her a tight nod. Raven gives her a smile that doesn’t touch her eyes. 

   “You know my number if you need me.” Raven pulls her into a hug again. 

   “I do. I love you Rae.”

   “I love you too, Clarke. I’ll see you soon okay.” 

    Just then, Octavia pops her dark head in the room. She’s sporting some kind of war paint Clarke finds highly unnecessary given the occasion. 

    “Time to roll out. Raven,” she says, motioning for the girl to come near, “Murphy’s outside waiting.” 

    The girls exchange a knowing glance and Octavia escorts Raven out to Murphy’s Jeep. Clarke heads to the middle of the living room and watches her best friend walk out the door. 

     

* * *

 

    “Good morning, Bellamy,” Kane’s voice greets him on the other end. 

    “I just wanted to let you know I gave Clarke a new phone. One without GPS capabilities.” Only the facts, that’s all he needs to know. 

    “Makes sense, I assume you’re calling me to give me the number?” 

    “Yes sir,” Bellamy replies. He rattles off the number he’s already memorized. “I just ask that you only call if it’s an emergency. I’m also not sure how much signal we’ll have in a few hours.” 

    “Oh? Where are you going.” 

    “We're going camping. It'll be safe.” Bellamy replies.

    “You think that’ll be safe?” 

    “My whole team is coming. We’ve worked out arrangements with a campground. They’re promising us advanced security measures while we’re there.” That’s one way to put it. 

    “It’s probably not a bad idea to get her out of town.”

    “That’s the plan. We’re leaving now. I’ll let you know if there’s any change.” 

    “Thanks Bellamy.” Kane manages to say before Bellamy snaps his phone shut.  

    He looks outside at his team carrying supplies to his Rover. They look ready, especially his sister. She’s been dying to get involved in something more than night watch work. Although, he thinks the face paint might be taking it a step too far. 

   “Hey,” Clarke says as she approaches from behind him.

    He gives her a nod and she stands beside him, watching the team prep.

   “You almost ready?” He asks.

    "Everything I have is already in the car.”

    “We’re taking Murphy’s Jeep too. He’s going to take a different route.” 

    “Who’s going with him?” 

    “Lincoln and Monty. Octavia is going with us. Miller is going to stay here, to hold down the fort and watch over Raven.” 

    She nods, “has Lincoln found out where we’re going?” 

    “He did. West Virginia.”

    She looks at him quizzically.

    He shrugs, “that’s where they are right now according to Lincoln. Right off the Appalachian trail down some deer path.” 

    “That won’t take long to get to,” Clarke says. Surprisingly knowing the route to the Appalachian trail.

    “Have you ever been to their camp?” He asks. 

     She inhales deeply, “no, I haven’t.” 

    A beat passes.

    “So when are we leaving?” She asks. His eyes search the cars and he sees Octavia waving from the back of his Rover.

    “Now.” He says, walking away from her and towards his car. He can almost feel her eye roll before she pops up, walking in stride next to him. 

 

\---------------------

 

    "We gotta have a game plan guys," Octavia declares, straddling the space between the two front seats. She looks back and forth between the two of them with a grin.

    "We have one. Get in, survive, and get out." Bellamy tells his sister. 

    Clarke keeps herself focused on the trees that line the backroad. They decided to stay off major highways or places they could be easily spotted. The roads are winding, but they're kind of scenic. It would be nice to take a drive here with Clarke without his sister. 

    He shakes off the thought. 

    "I don't think that's a good enough plan big brother." 

    Bellamy grunts.

    "Okay, first, we have to think about sleeping arrangements," Octavia says.

    "What about them? We'll sleep when and where we sleep."

    "I mean," she says shaking her hair back, "who is going with who? We only have three sleeping bags. Three. And one tent. Unless we plan on having everyone pair up two to a sleeping bag and everyone piles in one tent."

    "It wouldn't be too unlike this morning," Clarke mumbles. 

    Bellamy glares at the two of them.

    “Can we stop somewhere? Like Walmart or something. I need food and it wouldn’t hurt to get actual camping supplies.” 

    He grips the steering wheel a little tighter. It’s not a bad idea. They didn’t bring any food either, and he’d hate to rely on the kindness of a terrorist group to give them something to eat. 

     “C’mon big brother, I don’t think a Walmart in bum-fuck Virginia is that big of a risk to take. Call Monty and Murphy if you want the extra back up. Lincoln already says he thinks it’s a good idea,” she says with a smile.

    “We could use a good first aid kit,” Clarke adds. Octavia nods and smiles before raising her eyebrows at Bellamy. 

    He takes a glance at Clarke, she meets his eyes and he knows the decision is up to him. He sighs and presses a button to call Murphy. 

   They meet less than twenty minutes later in the parking lot. They all climb out before Clarke. Bellamy passes her an oversized black hoodie. To his surprise, she seems actually grateful, and slips it over her head.

    She hops out of the Rover with her hood up and into the parking lot. She swivels her head around, but nobody seems to notice her. She stands a little taller and fills the space next to him. She looks really good in his clothes.

    “Couldn’t deal with the ride Octavia?” Murphy asks over the hood of his Jeep. She exaggerates a laugh.

    Monty steps out of the backseat and Lincoln plods over to stand next to Octavia. They give each other a quick embrace. Bellamy isn’t sure he’ll ever fully understand their attachment to each other. Their relationship is a risk, but it’s not something he can force his sister to stop.  

    “It’s too much when you’re starving,” Octavia responds. “Bell doesn’t keep any food in his house.” 

    “Yes I do, just not enough for eight,” Bellamy defends. 

   “Whatever, lets go in. The longer we wait the worse I’ll get,” Octavia says as she walks toward the blue building, well aware of the mean streak she gets when hungry. 

   Bellamy stops her and hands her a cloth, “not with that on your face you’re not.” 

    She scrunches her face, “there’s nothing wrong with how I look.” 

   “You can’t go in there looking like that. It’ll draw suspicion if nothing else.” 

    She snatches the rag from his hand. “I don’t think anyone in fucking Walmart cares.” She grumbles as she wipes her face. Lincoln can’t hide his small, but still noticeable smile. 

   “Thank you.” Bellamy says. The team starts to walk around them and Octavia tosses back the cloth. Clarke begins walking with them.

   “Wait,” Bellamy commands.

    Everyone turns to look at him. “I’m going to take Clarke out there,” he says, motioning over to a mountain. 

   Clarke balks. 

   “Whatever man, we’re going in.” Murphy states. 

   “I’ll call you when we’re done,” Bellamy says.

   Murphy throws up an o-k sigh with his hand as he strides towards the entrance. Octavia damn near sprints into the store.

   “Why aren’t we going in?” Clarke asks. 

   “I need to show you something first. You have to trust me.” 

    She twists her neck and looks at him strangely.

   “Come on,” he says, climbing back in the Rover.

   “We’re leaving the lot?” 

   “Yeah, we’ve gotta get up that mountain. It would take all day to walk.” 

    She climbs in next to him, very obviously suspicious of his plan. She needs to know how to keep herself safe. Even if she doesn’t necessarily like it.

    He starts driving up the mountainside. He’d already looked up the hunting regulations and any shooting ranges in the area. Luckily, the area was mostly owned by one man who was an avid gun rights advocate. Turns out, the guy had used his team for security at some of his gun shows just outside of D.C. and knew he’s typically out of the country this time of year. He doubted he’d have any trouble on the land.

   “Bellamy, what are we doing?” 

   He pulls up to a dirt path and stops the car. He breathes, “I need you to know how to protect yourself if anything happens while we’re there.”

   “I’ll be fine,” she sighs. She’s doing a bad job trying to feign toughness.

   “I want to make sure of that,” he says, stepping out of the Rover and opening the back door. He had his team pack duffle bags full of guns. Lincoln and Octavia had told him they wouldn’t let weapons in the camp, but he had his way of sneaking some in when he needed them. 

   “What’s that?” Clarke asks.

   “I’m teaching you how to shoot.” 

    She just stands there, unmoving. 

    “Listen, I know you might not want to, but in order to defend yourself it will be helpful to know how to hold a gun.”

   “My father died of a bullet to the head, you know that. Why would I want to pick up what killed him?” She asks, her intensity boring into him. 

   He knew it wouldn’t be easy, he just figured she wouldn't be so quick to play the dead dad card. 

   “I know. It’s gotta be hard. And I’m not saying it isn’t fucked up, it is. But can’t let what happened to him limit you and what you do to protect yourself.” He almost reaches out to her but holds himself back. 

   She flicks her eyes back and forth between Bellamy and the duffle bags. She closes her eyes for a few seconds and springs them back open.

   “I’m only doing this because I want to know what it’s like. And don’t tell anybody about this. If my mother found out you taught me how to shoot-“ 

   “She doesn’t need to know.” He agrees.

   “Okay,” she says, holding up her palms, “show me.” 

    His mouth twists into a smile, “not like that. Grab a bag, we’re going up here.” He begins marching up the dirt path and hears her footsteps crunch behind him.

   Over the next two hours, he teaches Clarke all the basics about the major gun types he brought. He mainly focuses on getting her to learn how to shoot a pistol, figuring if she needs a gun, that would be the easiest to use and conceal. He got intimately familiar with how the tip of a gun looked over Clarke’s shoulder. He adjusted her stance and arms, tightened her grip, and held her hands in his as she took her first shot. She’d gotten so much better in such little time.

    “Good.” He concludes. “You did good.” 

    She stands down and stares at him before collecting the guns and putting them back in a duffle bag. 

    They hike back down the mountain to the Rover and toss the bags in the back. 

   “Shit, it’s already after noon,” he says, glancing at his dashboard clock. They were hoping to make it to the camp by dark and they still had a trail to hike.

   “Yeah, well, you didn’t have to take me out to the woods,” Clarke states. 

   He glares at her.

  “I’m happy you did though,” she adds. “It doesn’t hurt to know how to use...them.”

   “You’re welcome,” he says, withholding his smile. Clarke Griffin is thanking him for something she didn’t initially agree with, he’ll take that as a victory. 

    The two of them take the winding road back to the Walmart parking lot. They park next to Murphy’s Jeep, but the team is still nowhere to be seen. Bellamy looks to Clarke who seems to have the same thought. Where the hell are they? 

   He opens his door and Clarke follows. She puts her hood back up and they start walking to the store. Their eyes roam the isles while never physically leaving each other’s side. 

   Octavia’s scream fills the air around them and they both snap their heads up towards the dairy isle. They make a mad dash towards the sound, eventually finding the whole team. He lets out a long held huff as he watches Octavia and Murphy race shopping carts down the long supermarket isle while the others watch from the side.

   “O!” Bellamy barks. 

    The whole team stops and their faces fall. They look like a bunch of grade school students just caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. Octavia gets over her initial reaction and breaks into a smile. 

   “Hey big brother!” She says as she waves at them.

   “What the hell is going on here?” He yells.

   “Uh, well, we finished shopping and loaded everything in Murphy’s Jeep, but you still weren’t back yet. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed-it’s cold out. So we came back in here,” she says, gesturing around. A family with small children make a break to grab a gallon of milk and make a quick get away. 

   “You don’t think this is the least bit suspicious?” Bellamy asks.

   “A group of young adults having fun in a Walmart is suspicious now?” Murphy replies.

   Bellamy grunts. “Well, are we ready?” 

   They all let out a collective yes and start walking back towards the front of the store. Clarke follows next to him, silent but somehow he feels like she’s there backing him up.

   Bellamy grabs Octavia’s cart and tugs it away from her when he sees her jump up on the wheels. He pushes the cart and notices Clarke silently laughing next to him. He chooses to ignore it.

    They drive back into the darkness of the woods. He still hates the fact that they’re doing this, but he feels better now that he’s more confident in Clarke’s ability to defend herself. It’s almost dark by the time they arrive at the trail. 

   “Alright bitches, let’s get this party started,” Octavia says, slapping the headrests of the front seats. She climbs out of the Rover first and Bellamy and Clarke make eye contact. He offers a silent apology for his sister. 

   Clarke hops out of her seat and he follows. The parking lot for the Appalachian trail is half covered in sticks and crumbling. It looks like nobody has used this particular one in months. 

   “You sure about this?” Bellamy offers one last time.

   Clarke nods, and he knows he can’t fight her on it. The others appear around them, all carrying loads of gear and newer looking camping backpacks he doesn’t remember them having back at the house. Clarke picks one up, it’s filled with first aid supplies Octavia must’ve picked up. At least she can carry her weight. 

    “Lexa told me it’s a couple miles up the trail. There’s going to be some marker to let us know when to go into the woods.” Lincoln announces to the group. 

   “Alright, I want you and Octavia in the front then. I’ll stay in the middle with Clarke. I want her flanked at all times.” Bellamy says to the team. They nod and begin the hike into the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote this chapter so many times, but I finally love it! As always, I hope you guys like it too.


	8. Chapter 8

  The woods are dense and the trail is sporadic but Lincoln and Octavia forge on.The group of them keep a good 10 feet between each pair, with Bellamy and Clarke in the middle.

   “We should talk about a game plan going in,” Bellamy says to just Clarke. They’ve been walking for a couple of hours, but Bellamy's eyes still search every corner of the forest around them. 

    She huffs a laugh, "I thought we did: get in, survive, and get out, remember?"

    "I mean mostly for you and I," he says taking a serious tone. 

    "Oh," she starts to walk straighter. “That’s probably a good idea.” 

    “Good. It’s uncharted territory for us. Lincoln and Octavia have been inside their walls before, but they move often. They’ve never been to this camp."

    She keeps her gaze straight ahead on the couple. Their march is stronger than the rest of their's, more confident. She glances behind them to see Murphy eyeing the forest suspiciously and Monty walking like he has a hunchback. 

   “So, no matter what happens, I need you to stay close to me. We might get there and have to run immediately. And if that happens I need to know you’re with me,” Bellamy says. She looks at his face only to find his eyes trying to plead with her, it’s as if he expects she’s going to run away and become a Grounder.

   She nods. “I’m with you. If we’re met with any hostility, we should leave.” Clarke affirms. 

    “Mind if I ask something personal?” 

    She stills, she has a feeling she knows where this is going. But she nods regardless.

    “How did it end with you two?” 

    “Why do you care?” 

     She tenses ready for his hostile words, but none of them come. To her surprise, his eyes soften. She's self conscious and sensitive when it comes to Lexa. Maybe it's from years of waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

   “I need to be prepared how volatile this reunion is going to be.” 

   She instantly is reminded of who she’s dealing with. “I just never heard from her again.” 

    “What?” He says, his head snapping towards her. 

    “Yup.”

    “She ghosted you?” 

    Clarke’s lips form a thin line. She’d never used the word ghosted to describe what happened before, but she supposes it is technically what happened. Lexa disappeared on her after one argument.

    “That's uh," he stops like he has to remember how to use sympathy. "That's rough, I’m sorry.” 

     She turns her head to face him, he seems sincere. “Thanks.” 

    “Do you think she invited us here because she still has feelings for you? Not because of your safety?” He asks. 

    She hasn’t laid it all out like that yet. The thought makes her pause and she has to scramble to catch back up. “Maybe.” 

    “My guess is that they have an ulterior motive. They usually do,” Bellamy says.

    “I don't know-with Lexa it was just-” 

    “You think what you guys had was real?”

    She clears her throat, remembering the weight of Lexa's hand on the small of her back. "Yeah, I think it was. It was for me at least."

    "I don't know," Bellamy says.

    "What?" Clarke asks sharply.

    Bellamy's eyes scatter the forest before making their way back to her. "You don't leave someone you care about. You don't just leave...that's not what love is."

    She keeps her eyes pinned to his. "You're right." 

    They look at each other, too intense for two people who just barely tolerate each other. He lifts a hand up, pushing back hair falling into face. "Stay close to me," he says to just her. He walks ahead of her towards where Lincoln and Octavia are marching forward. 

    She hesitates a beat too long and shuffles forward towards him. She takes a glance back and finds Murphy looking at her with a curious and somehow knowing glance. He spots her and raises an eyebrow suggestively. He really is the worst. She makes a promise to herself not to make eye contact with him or Bellamy for the rest of the walk.

   She gestures Monty to come forward to speak with her. She tries to ask him some innocuous questions about what he's hoping to gain from all of this. She's still not sure why he's come along. She tries to question him, but Bellamy's trained him too well. That and the boy seems naturally skittish. So she sighs, and lets the conversation fall to silence as they continue to march forward. 

 

—————————————

 

     "Holy fuck," Bellamy breathes while approaching the compound. The woods were thick and ungainly around them. Clarke would have never noticed the marker in the road without Lincoln's careful eye. A big stone with a red mark laid in the ground, some leaves formed around it, hiding its size. It took no time at all to get to the camp from there.

    Her eyes flicker from half-built structure to structure. She feels like Bellamy, already looking for an exit, but she's deep in the woods and she knows, there is none. The same grim knowing passes over Bellamy's face. It's a weird little town cobbled together with shoddy plywood housing and surprisingly recent technology. It's half old-timey village, half technological marvel, all in the middle of some trail in bum fuck West Virginia. Solar panels are fastened to trees and wires run all around the grounds giving power to unseen devices. The camp almost seems abandoned with no one milling about. 

    Lincoln walks into the camp first, his gait is suddenly uncertain, hesitating for the first time their whole hike. 

    Bellamy places a hand on the small of her back. It initially startles her, but she relaxes into it, grateful for the support.

    "Here," he whispers just above her head, moving her closer to him, the implication being that's where she should stay. So she does.

    A dark skinned woman approaches them from over a hill on the path. Clarke flicks her eyes to Bellamy who looks to Lincoln as he tightens his grip on her side. 

    “Indra!” Octavia exclaims, breaking out into a run towards the woman, who opens her arms for an embrace. Octavia throws herself at her with such force the woman stumbles back, but she smiles as she accepts her. 

   Others appear over the hill and quicken their pace once they see Octavia and Indra. Clarke scans the group of them looking for Lexa, but doesn’t spot her amongst them. Indra holds up a hand and the group stops as one. 

   The two women pull apart, Octavia smiling wider than Clarke's seen yet. Indra says something to Octavia

which makes her smile wider, but Clarke's too far away to hear. The Grounders break formation, walking forward to greet Octavia and Lincoln before taking the rest of them in. Most pay special attention to Clarke, which makes her acutely aware of Bellamy’s hand on her side, which she tries to shift away from. Bellamy shoots her a look, but lets his hand fall back behind her.

   A man with an intense face tattoo and elaborate hairstyle nears them, his hand resting on a weapon by his hip. Other Grounders follow and they outnumber their team quickly. The man with the face tattoo is clearly their elected leader for now, and stands off with Lincoln. He says something in what must be their language, and throws a dark bag at their feet. Lincoln unstraps a knife from his leg and Clarke tenses, feeling her own knife in its holster against her skin. 

    The man motions for others to come near and they, roughly, pat down Lincoln. Indra pats down Octavia in the distance and tugs a knife out of the back of her jacket. Indra purses her lips before tucking it into her own pants. 

    "What is this?!" Bellamy yells as he's torn away from her. She tries to grab him, but they’re too forceful and her arm twists in the process. She holds her elbow as he is roughly searched by three Grounders. They pull a knife from his sock and a gun from his belt as he struggles against them. His eyes never leave Clarke's.

    She twists her head farther to check on the rest of the team. Monty and Murphy both have their own Grounder escorts searching them. Murphy seems pissed, and Monty seems terrified. A hand grabs Clarke just shy of where she's fastened the knife to her arm. She turns to see a giant man who is well over double her size. He yanks her arm towards him and she stumbles to regain her footing. 

    "Get your hands off of her!" Bellamy shouts. He moves to run towards her, but is only able to make it about a foot before two big Grounders hold him back by the arms. He kicks and bucks against them. 

   Another man appears behind Clarke and grabs her other arm. She looks to the whole team for help, Octavia glances to Lincoln before scowling and moving forward to help her. Indra lets her go, but she only makes it about half way before a Grounder pops out from the woods at her side and slams her to the ground. Octavia grunts in pain, and Bellamy starts bucking harder. Lincoln runs over to her and helps pick her up, but she yells when he pulls her arm.

     Clarke winces, something is definitely wrong with her arm, but she won't be able to tell what without a closer inspection. Lincoln moves to her other arm and supports her by placing her uninjured arm around his neck. He whispers something in her ear and Clarke makes out the ghost of a smile on her lips. 

    She's pulled away from the sight, literally. One of the Grounders tugs at her waistband and Clarke's blood runs cold. "Hey!" She shouts, kicking back at the man who lifts a hand to strike her across the face. "fuck," she mouths as her head hangs low. 

    “Don't touch her!” Bellamy yells. She can hear him fighting against his captors.

    "Hod op!" She hears a clear and commanding voice say. She snaps back up to find Lexa walking towards them, clad in some sort of a ripped corset and a long cape covering her black jeans and shirt. "Release her. But continue holding the others.” 

   The Grounders let Clarke go and she shakes her arms. She focuses on the woman in front of her. 

   “Hello Clarke,” Lexa says with a slight smile.

    “Lexa,” Clarke says, rubbing her still red face. She stands up straighter. “Are you going to let them go?” She motions to Bellamy but doesn’t look at him. 

   “Once they’re checked. They’ll be free to roam the camp. But you’re our guest of honor. I won’t subject you to a search. Instead I’ll ask you: do you have any weapons on you Clarke?” 

   “No,” she lies, without hesitation. 

   Lexa lifts her chin, "I believe you." She moves her head to glance around at throng of Grounders around them. "Nobody is to touch her while she is with us! If I find anyone has laid a hand on Clarke Griffin, you will pay with your life. Am I clear?" She says in a raised calm voice to the crowd. They answer with a resounding sound of understanding. 

    Clarke can hardly resign this version of Lexa with the girl she danced around in pajama bottoms with, eating take out straight out of the container. She wonder's why Lexa's suddenly in charge. 

    “Lexa,” Clarke begins, she sees the girl’s eyes fill with hope, “can you please let them go now?”

     Lexa’s face falls and she nods. "Alright, I'll have my people let go of your people." 

     "Yeah, unhand my people."

     Clarke watches as the Grounders actually start to unhand Bellamy's team. Bellamy is thrusted to the ground by one of his captors. She wants to look over and check on him, but she knows she can’t take her attention off of Lexa. 

   “Fucking hell,” Bellamy coughs into the soil before standing. His eyes find Clarke’s and she flicks back to Lexa. Lexa looks between the two of them, obviously curious. 

   Bellamy saddles up behind Clarke, with a slow gait trying to hide a slight limp. He doesn’t touch her. 

   “I didn’t expect you’d be bringing so much...company,” Lexa says to mostly Bellamy. 

   “And I didn’t expect to be met like this, but here we are,” Clarke throws back. 

   “Here we are,” Lexa repeats, her expression unreadable. “You all can follow me to your quarters. I only set up arrangements for Clarke, the rest of you can sleep on whatever you brought with you.” One of the men who was holding Clarke, and another one who had Bellamy flank Lexa’s sides as she turns around and starts to march back into the camp. 

   Bellamy stays by Clarke's side, closer than he was earlier. She doesn’t look at him, she stays focused on the leader in front of her. 

   “We agreed if we were met with hostility, we would go,” Bellamy whispers above her head.

   “We can’t just go,” she tells him. 

   “I can get Lincoln and Octavia to find us an exit-” 

   “No, let’s see this through, they might have something to show us.” 

   Bellamy shifts his head back upright. The conversation obviously over.

   Monty coughs from behind them and Bellamy falls back. 

   “You okay?” Clarke hears Bellamy ask.

    She turns around to find him looking very concerned at Monty, who is visibly shaken.

   He doesn’t respond.

   “It’s going to be okay. We’ll get though this.”

   “But what if they’re responsible?” Monty whispers. Clarke turns back to Lexa and the other Grounders, who are marching far enough ahead of them that they can’t hear the exchange. Lincoln and Octavia are in between them, with Octavia's arm hanging at an unnatural angle. Just another complication in an already messy situation. Bellamy's going to be thrilled.

   “We don’t know anything for sure. Just keep your eyes and ears open. Murphy and I will be there if there’s any trouble. Remember that.” Bellamy’s voice says. 

   “He’s right. I got you.” Murphy says. 

   “Thanks guys.” Monty replies, and Bellamy is quickly back to her side.

    They make it to what Clarke would suppose is some sort of temporary barracks on an off shoot of their village and Lexa turns around to face them. She finds Clarke’s eyes first. 

   “Clarke, you can stay in here. It’s private quarters. Not too big, but it will suffice for all of your needs. The rest of you,” she says, scanning all of the team’s faces. “You’re free to set up camp in the clearing next door. I know you won’t want to be very far from Clarke. And I don’t blame you.” 

   Bellamy audibly scoffs and Lexa lifts her chin. 

   “Dinner will be within the next hour. I'll let you settle in until then.” She turns to leave.

   “Lexa,” Clarke’s voice commands before she has a time to really think about it. 

   Lexa turns around, “yes?” 

   “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She doesn’t bother to look back, knowing Bellamy is probably giving them both a vicious stare.

   “Of course,” Lexa walks into what she deemed Clarke’s quarters and she follows. There’s a small makeshift bed covered in what looks like old crocheted blankets that have faded with time. A petite iron fireplace flickers in the center of the room, filling the room with an inviting warmth. A water basin lies in the corner and there’s a decrepit floor length mirror propped up against the wall by the door. Clarke’s shocked it hasn’t toppled the whole flimsy building over. 

   Their faces flicker in the firelight as they take each other in. They’re well aware of the presence outside of the door, and the people ready to listen to their every word.

   “Thank you,” Clarke says carefully, “for letting us come stay with you. I know it couldn’t have been easy to convince your... people.” 

   “You’ll always have a place with me, Clarke,” Lexa says, her green eyes soft. “You’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like.”

   There’s a prolonged moment of silence between the two of them. 

   "Okay then," Lexa says with a nod. She turns to start to leave.

    "Wait," Clarke says.

     She wants to ask why she left her. Why she’s now the leader of the Grounders. Why she never told her any of this while they were dating. And most importantly, she wants to ask if Lexa still feels anything for her, because if Clarke's being honest with herself, she still does. She thought she wouldn't. She thought she was stronger than this. But after all this time, looking at Lexa right in front of her, she knows she's not. 

    She hears a rustle outside, and is reminded Bellamy is there. She remembers that she isn't there alone. 

 

 

* * *

 

   “Monty-I say this with all the kindness I have left-please, just shut the fuck up.” Bellamy snaps at the boy.

    Monty has been talking about where the Grounder’s could have potentially hidden evidence, all while he's trying to listen in on Clarke’s conversation. He wanted to grab her and ask what the fuck she thought she was doing going into a room with the leader of a terrorist organization. And this compound is massive, much bigger than he thinks the government is even aware of. They could be anywhere by now, since he hasn’t been able to hear them in half a minute. 

   “Sorry, if I’m here, I’m going to find evidence from when they murdered Jasper.” Monty responds.

   “Dude, we all want that. But just let him listen to his girlfriend’s conversation with her girlfriend.” Murphy says. Bellamy scowls at both of them. 

   Suddenly the door swings open and Bellamy staggers back. Out walks Clarke, no longer wearing his hoodie, followed by Lexa. 

   “Now, I will leave you. Please ready yourself for a feast. We’re pleased you all could join us, in peace.” Lexa says before walking away. Clarke watches her go.

   Bellamy bites his tongue and turns to Octavia, who is already trying to pitch what will be her and Lincoln’s tent with one arm. He walks over to help her. Clarke approaches with him.

  “Octavia?” She says. 

   Octavia turns to her, a less than friendly look gracing her face. “What?”

   “You’re hurt, let me check you.”

   Octavia grunts, “as if you could help.” 

   “I might be able to. You have to let me try though.” 

   Octavia looks to Lincoln and Bellamy, both of them look back to Clarke. Bellamy almost steps in, remembering the few times he was forced to go to anatomy class with Clarke. It feels worlds away now.

   Octavia rolls her eyes and picks up a rod for the tent.

   “You can’t built a tent with one hand,” Clarke says.

   Octavia stands still and tries to lift her bad arm. She winces with pain. Turning back around to face her, her eyes roam the camp and eventually land on a fallen log. She hits Clarke’s arm walking past her. Clarke motions for both Bellamy and Lincoln to follow them. 

   The girls take their seats with Clarke next to Octavia’s injured arm. The men stand blocking the view from the camp. Clarke carefully peels down Octavia's coat and examines her shoulder.

   “Jesus, fuck!” Octavia cries when Clarke presses on it.

   “Sorry,” Clarke mumbles.

   “I think you found it! Fuck,” Octavia says while Clarke continues her exam.

   “You’ve dislocated your shoulder. I can reset it, but it’s going to hurt.” 

   Octavia hisses through her teeth, “it already hurts.”

   “Lincoln, can you hold her other arm? Bellamy, stand behind her.” They step around and take their places. Bellamy gently places his hand on her good shoulder and grabs her other side bracing her. 

   Octavia takes a deep breath, “just get it over with.” 

   Clarke pushes Octavia’s dark hair out of the way and maneuvers her hands around the girl’s elbow and forearm.

  “Count down from three,” Clarke commands.

  “Three-“ And with that Clarke forces Octavia’s arm down.

   “HOLY FUCK!” Octavia screams.

    Clarke holds her hand now and presses her shoulder, “you're okay.” 

   Octavia’s breathing steadies after a few seconds and she snatches her arm away from Clarke. She quickly realizes what she’s done and looks up at Lincoln, she moves her hand and an open mouthed smile fills her face. Bellamy watches a small smile grow on Clarke’s. 

   “Thank you,” Lincoln is the first to tell Clarke. 

   “Maybe you’re not so bad Griffin,” Octavia says as she moves her other hand to her injured shoulder, still wincing. “Thanks,” she says turning to her. 

   “You’re welcome. We need you, and all of your limbs, while we’re here. Just try not to move it for a while, you'll be able to feel when you're ready.”

   “You got that right,” Octavia says getting up. She walks back towards her tent set up. “You coming?!” She calls back to all of them. 

   Lincoln grins and hurries to her side. 

   Clarke and Bellamy exchange looks before walking back.

   “Thank you,” Bellamy tells her.

   “No problem.” She says, but her happy look from earlier is gone.

   Clarke stands on the sidelines as Bellamy and the others set up their campsite. He can’t believe he really let his team convince him to come. His sister had already dislocated her shoulder within minutes of arriving. If they all hadn’t had the wild idea that they could find evidence to pin Jasper and the Jaha boy’s murder on they wouldn’t be here. And looking around at this flea infested campground, he doubts they’ll be able to find anything. 

   “Dinner!” A man yells from the center of the village. It makes them all jump. 

   The team wraps up their tents within minutes and walks towards the center of town.

    “Bellamy, you coming?” Octavia hollers.

    “Yeah, just finishing up this tent. You guys go ahead.” He shouts back. Octavia walks away with the rest of the team. Clarke still stands where she was, now with his hoodie back on.

    “You’re not going to dinner?” He says, continuing to build the tent. 

    “I was waiting for you,” she says back, now walking over to him.

    He huffs a laugh, “you weren’t waiting for me before.” 

    “I had to establish that we weren’t here to cause any trouble.” 

    “Is that what you did?”

    “Yes, she knows she can trust us. And I’m going to need you to trust me.” 

    He almost rolls his eyes. He slams the mallet down on the last peg for his tent and steps back to look at his work. 

    "I know you're mad at me," Clarke says behind him, "but let's get to dinner before we have to worry about angering anyone else." 

    He kicks some dirt up with his boot and turns around. Her arms are crossed and her feet are firmly planted. It's as if not even a tornado could knock her down. She is one all herself. 

    He walks towards her, nods, and keeps walking. He turns around slightly ahead of her, "just remember," he says, thinking about her conversation with Lexa in a closed room, "trust is a two way street."

    She walks towards him, "yeah," she says, like she's spoiling for a confrontation, "it is." 

    He doesn't rise to the bait and instead turns back around, knowing that she's following.

    They make it to a mess hall which is filled with what must be close to 100 pungent smelling people. Clarke wrinkles her nose slightly as they enter. Bellamy spots Octavia's head all the way at the back of the building. 

    "They're all the way on the other side. Stay close," Bellamy tells Clarke over the loud roar of the building. Clarke nods and they begin squeezing their way through long tables packed with Grounders. They eat like savages, using their hands and tearing into their meals like they are starving. He wonders if Lexa bothers to feed her people or if she saved all the food for Clarke's arrival. 

    Half way through, he realizes the team is sitting at a table with Lexa and two of the men who restrained their team earlier. Octavia is seated by the woman she greeted at the front of the camp. He takes a deep breath as he looks to Clarke, who seems like she already noticed. Maybe she told her they'd all be sitting together tonight. Or maybe he's the one getting played here. 

    Lincoln nods towards them as they approach and Octavia turns her head and grins, "I was beginning to think you guys were skipping dinner." 

    "I told you, I had to finish setting up my tent."

    "Whatever, just go see if there's any food left."

    Bellamy begins to turn towards the plates lined up on the side when he hears that voice say her name again. 

    "Clarke, and your friend, you can sit with me. I'll have Gustus get your plates," Lexa says clearly. A large man shoves himself up from the table and walks towards the food table.

    "Thank you," Clarke says as she sits down. He sits next to her, across from Lexa. 

    "I'm sorry we didn't have arrangements for you all, I didn't realize how big your entourage would be." Lexa says with a smirk.

    "I always have to travel with more than one guard for safety, you would understand," Clarke replies.

      Lexa nods, "I do. I just wish I had known. Something to keep in mind for next time."

    Bellamy has to hide his gut reaction from showing on his face. They are never coming back to this place. He won't allow it. 

    Gustus makes it back with two plates. They're piled high with mystery meat and mixed vegetables. 

    "I didn't know what you liked, so I brought it all." He remarks, before reclaiming his seat next to Lexa.

    "Thank you, Gustus. It looks great," Clarke says diplomatically with a smile. 

    Bellamy nods. 

    Gustus gives a tight lipped smile. Clarke picks up a mutton-esque piece of meat and takes a bite. She chews it without gagging, which he's not even sure he could do at the moment. He picks up a piece of carrot and pops it in his mouth. 

     A hand slaps him on the back and he jumps. "Have you tried the boar yet? We caught it this week in preparation for your arrival." Another large man with a wild beard says. His hand stays planted on his back. Bellamy hunches over. 

     "Not yet..." 

     "It's really good." Clarke answers. 

     "Ditto," Octavia says from a few seats down. 

     "I'm glad you all like it! Octavia, Lincoln, it's great seeing you again." The man says before he walks away. 

    "We're all happy you could be here," Lexa says to what he's pretty sure is just Clarke. 

    She smiles and nods before turning back to her food. She picks at her vegetables for the rest of dinner. 

    Octavia hugs the woman, who he's now learned is Indra, on their way out. Lexa reaches for Clarke. She steps away before she can touch her. 

    "Thank you for dinner. We've had a long day." Clarke says.

    "You're always welcome." Lexa says. It feels slimy. 

    Clarke gives her a half smile and looks to the rest of the group. "I think we'll all be turning in now," she says as the group of them nods. Lexa looks like she's about to say more when Clarke yawns. 

    "Have a good rest," Lexa says. Clarke doesn't reply. 

    Octavia snuggles into Lincoln's side and their group turns away from the mess hall and starts the trek towards their setup. 

    "Hey, do you want to stay in my room tonight?" Clarke asks next to Bellamy. His eyes go wide and Murphy turns around with a more expressive surprised look on his face. 

    "Listen, I know what it sounds like, but it'll be a lot safer. I don't know what they'll try here," Clarke whispers.

    "You haven't seemed concerned until now." Bellamy says.

    "That's what you'd think," she says, stopping at her barrack. The others march on, but he stops with her. 

    "What does that mean?" 

    "It means, I need you to trust me to know what we need to do here. I know her, and I know when something seems off. I would feel safer if I knew you were in there with me." Clarke reasons.

    He doesn't have to mull it over. He already decided well before they got to the camp, wherever she goes, he goes. "Alright." 

    "Come in, it's cold out here," Clarke says, stepping into the little wooden shack. He's shocked to find it has a working metal fireplace. 

    "Still cold when you have my hoodie on?" He jokes. 

    She shrugs, "it's comfortable. Plus, my fake boyfriend gave it to me." She finally cracks a genuine smile. 

    "I have to grab a sleeping bag," Bellamy says, looking at her for a moment. "Come with me. I said I wouldn't leave you alone." 

    She dramatically rolls her eyes but maintains her smile. They step back into the frigid February night and grab a sleeping bag out of his tent. He'll leave it up for now. It's best to let the Grounders think he's in there anyway. He unrolls one sleeping bag and unzips it so if they come checking it looks like he might have just gotten up to use the bathroom. 

    He can think of a thousand reasons why it would be a bad idea to stay in a tiny room with Clarke tonight, especially after Lexa's speech about how she'll actually kill anyone who touches her. But he can think of a thousand and one reasons why it's a good move. At least he and Lexa can agree on one thing, nobody is going to touch Clarke. 

    They make it back to the makeshift bedroom and he unravels the other sleeping bag on the floor, which is a rug covering what looks like pieces of plywood. The fire is warm by his feet. Clarke shuffles to the corner of the room by the water basin, now down to her plain gray t-shirt, and washes her face. She scrubs at her hands for a long time before settling into the sheets of her bed. 

    "I'd never had boar before," he says to the ceiling.

    He hears Clarke stifle a laugh, "me either, it was bad." 

    He smiles, "I knew it."

    "No more boar for us."

    "No more boar." He repeats.

     He isn't sure how much longer he's awake, but the last thing he remembers before he succumbs to sleep is Clarke's breath whistling in and out. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

   Clarke gasps for air. She feels sick to her stomach. Lexa’s even there in her dreams. Touching her, back in Lexa’s apartment. Except this time, her touch is cold. It doesn’t feel like the Lexa she knew. She tries to pull away from her but Lexa holds fast. 

   Her eyes spring open. They’re greeted by the night sky shining through the gaps in the ceiling. There’s a weight on her side and heat on her stomach. She follows the feeling and finds Bellamy protectively clutching her side. She panics for a moment, until she remembers she invited him up on the bed in an exhausted stupor. He insisted on sleeping head to feet, but obviously that didn’t hold. 

   His freckled face is placid, and inches from her own. She reaches down and feels his arm in it’s possessive grasp on her. 

    Unlike his hands, his arm is surprisingly soft. She strokes his muscle without thinking. He stirs and she freezes. 

    Regardless, he shouldn’t be touching her. No matter how nice it feels. 

   She quickly reaches to pry his arm off of her as he opens his eyes. His peaceful face quickly transforms into one of alarm. His nose flares and he jerks his arm away from her. She’s instantly cold.

   “I-I don’t know how that happened.” He explains, now sitting up and moving away as quickly as possible.

   “I invited you up last night. I was cold.”  Clarke remembers. 

   “I just-I don’t normally do things like...” 

   “Bellamy,” Clarke says, commanding his attention. He looks at her from under his curly fringe. “It’s not that deep.” 

    He takes a breath, and then another. He moves his body as he takes full stock of the small room around them and lands back on her.

   “Why are you up?” He asks. 

    “Couldn’t sleep.”

     He sends her a pointed look and she shrugs. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed so she’s not looking at him. 

   “That’s not it,” he says.

   “What?” 

   “That’s not why. You’re never afraid to look at me when you’re telling the truth.” 

    Shit. Is she that transparent?

   “I had a bad dream,” she answers over her shoulder. 

    He appears by her side and they exchange a long look. 

   “You wanna talk about it?” He asks. 

    She shakes her head. 

   “I get them too.” 

   Clarke shoots him a puzzled look.

   “The dreams. It happens when you’ve had a rough life.” 

   She breathes a laugh, “you're calling my life hard?”

    “You’ve experienced things most people never have to. So yeah, I’m saying it hasn’t been the easiest.” 

    One corner of her mouth turns up. “Thanks.” 

   “Don’t come to me looking for compliments now though.” He says with a smile. 

    “Compliments aren’t on my list of important things right now, so you’re in the clear.” 

    He snorts.

   The two of them ready themselves in the heat of the room. Bellamy finds a stash of firewood in a corner of the room almost too dark to see and restokes the fire. 

    The sun is up within an hour.

  

 

———————————

 

       They walk out into the brisk morning air. Clarke keeps Bellamy's hoodie, and he doesn't protest. When they see no one in the camp, they make their way towards the team’s tents.

    "I was wondering when you two would get up," they hear Murphy before they see him, approaching them from the forest. 

    "We've been up," Clarke says, not yet ready for Murphy’s commentary today.

    "You've been keeping watch all night?" Bellamy asks. Clarke stills. Of course someone had to be on guard.

    He shakes his head, "Me, Monty, and Lincoln have been taking turns." Murphy motions over to Lincoln and Octavia’s tent.

    "Did Monty get any sleep?" Bellamy asks. 

    "Come on man, you know he's not going to be able to while were here." 

    Clarke looks between the two of them. Monty seems like a nervous guy, but she'd bet his reasons for not sleeping are deeper than nerves.

    Bellamy sighs, "I had hope."

    "Hope’s pointless. I thought we might as well put him to work if he's not going to sleep. Besides, I didn’t want to disturb you, you two were looking pretty comfortable in there," Murphy says with a smirk.

    "You were watching us?" Clarke snaps.

    "Hey, better me than them," he says, motioning over to the Grounder village. "And chill out princess, I had to find Bellamy after he wasn't in his tent."

    She swears she sees Bellamy turn the faintest shade of red. She’s pretty sure he heard her ask him to join her last night. But she doesn’t say anything. 

    "Alright," Bellamy's voice commands. "It doesn't matter, we got through the night. Where's Monty?" 

    “Here,” a voice says from a tent. Monty pops his head up from behind the nylon. He slowly makes his way over to them, his head staying low and his eyes darting around. 

    “Find anything interesting?” Bellamy asks Monty. 

    Monty flicks his eyes up to Murphy who nods and continues on his patrol around the clearing. 

    “I was able to explore the camp a little while you guys were asleep. And it’s...uh...interesting.” 

    “We knew that." Bellamy says, almost with a snort. "Anything important to know?” 

    Monty flicks his eyes to Clarke and then back to Bellamy before shaking his head. 

   Bellamy tips his head and nods. “That’s okay, we survived. You did good.” 

    The side of Monty’s mouth tips up slightly before falling again. “Yeah, we’ll see.” 

    Clarke is about to chime in when she hears something shift behind them. 

   “Good morning,” a Grounder’s booming voice says behind them. 

   “Good morning,” Clarke speaks for them. She turns around to see the one they call Gustus. 

   “I’m here to invite you all to breakfast. Heda’s orders.” 

   “Heda?” Clarke asks.

    “Yes, Heda, you call her Lexa,” he says before turning to walk away. 

   “Lexa is Heda? What does that mean?” Clarke asks, her tone slightly indignant.

   “It means, she commands you. She leads us, and you while you’re here. So you will treat her name with respect.” 

   Clarke’s nostrils flare. She stands tall. Nobody else gets to tell her how to feel about Lexa.

   “She’s not my commander.” 

   The Grounder grabs Clarke’s arm and Bellamy steps in to pry him off. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re here to ruin our movement. Lexa may be blind to your schemes but I’m not. You’re U.S. government scum, you and your friends are going to betray us. And I won’t let that happen.” He says before tossing her arm away. She stumbles back into Bellamy who catches her and stands her upright. 

   “Gustus!” She hears Lexa’s voice from afar. 

    He stands up straight and turns towards her as she walks over the hill. Clarke looks up to Bellamy who meets her eyes. They both flick back to stare straight ahead at the scene. 

   “Yes Heda?” Gustus shouts.

   She doesn’t answer until she’s only paces from him. “You laid a hand on her.” She doesn’t look at Clarke as her eyes flare with rage she keeps firmly on Gustus. 

   “So she would understand-“ Lexa holds up a hand to stop him. 

   “You disobeyed me. You went against your  _kru_.”

    “Heda, I told you...you must understand.” 

    “There’s nothing else I need to see to understand. I warned you yesterday, touch her and pay with your life.” 

    It’s barbaric and cruel, but Clarke is frozen, watching the uncivilized justice unfold before them. She takes a look at Monty, who has shrunk at least six inches. She steps back into Bellamy, feeling his arm and chest securely against her back. 

   “Guards!” Lexa commands, and out of nowhere a swarm of Grounders surround the scene. 

    They grab and hold Gustus like they did Bellamy before, except he does not fight them.

   Clarke scopes their surroundings and notices Murphy at the tree line by the Grounder’s village. It’s the first time she thinks she’s seen him look scared. 

   “You’ll regret this Heda, I warned you about them.” 

   “And I warned you,” she snaps back. 

    Even more Grounders have congregated around them. Octavia and Lincoln emerged out of their tent at some point and took the place behind Monty. 

   “Let this be a warning, to any and all who do not obey my orders! You touch her you pay with your life!” 

   This time, none of the Grounders make a sound. Lexa’s guards quietly tie him to a tree. They do not protest or beg for his life. They sit and wait for their leader to kill their comrade.  

   “You served me well Gustus,” Lexa says before sliding out a sword she kept at her side. 

    “Lexa, you don’t have to do this. I’m fine,” Clarke pleads. She feels Bellamy tense behind her. 

   “I don’t have to, but he disobeyed his commander, so I must,” she says, before taking a swipe at Gustus’s chest. It cuts through his dirty tattered shirt. 

   He yells in pain as a collection of Grounders with their own knives and swords form around Lexa. They each take their turn making small cuts into his skin. Clarke knows it will take an unbearable amount of time for him to bleed to death. 

   “Please... Heda, have mercy,” Gustus cries. 

   Lexa doesn’t look like she considers it, in fact, she seems as if she never hears his moans or cries. Clarke thinks she sees some faces of anguish in the crowd, but they don’t speak above a whisper to each other. 

   Lexa’s guards take another slow cut into his skin until Clarke has had enough. 

   “Lexa,” she croaks out, “he asked for mercy.” The camp goes silent.

   Lexa glances up to meet her, but Clarke’s words do nothing. Lexa takes another small swipe at Gustus. 

   Clarke chokes back her feelings about the gruesome scene and tries to take a deep breath. Bellamy flexes defensively behind her, and she’s grateful for it. She’s not alone in this. 

   Minutes pass in agony. It must be close to an hour before Clarke knows Gustus is close to death. His breathing has slowed and he’s stopped crying out. One guard makes a single swipe before walking over and whispering something to Lexa. 

   Her eyes find Clarke immediately. Lexa purses her lips and walks towards Gustus again. She holds her sword firmly in one hand and then with two lifts it and plunges it deep into Gustus’s heart. Clarke gasps at the suddenness of it. 

   Lexa pulls the now crimson sword out of his chest and closes her eyes. She mutters something under her breath and looks to the sky. When she turns back to the Earth she finds her immediately. 

   “Clarke,” Lexa says. Clarke knows it’s a command to come nearer. 

   She walks from her safe place with the team to Lexa. Surrounded by Grounders, she stands face to face with her, waiting for her first words to her of the day. 

   “This is what will happen to those who dare to lay a finger on you. They will not get away with it.” 

   Clarke blinks and swallows hard. 

   Lexa looks away, back to Gustus who is lying limp against the tree. She closes her eyes. 

   “ _Yu gonplei ste odon_.” She mumbles to his corpse. She stands straighter and shouts “ _Yu gonplei ste odon!_ ” Into the crowd. 

    They chant it back. 

    She doesn’t know this Lexa.

   “You didn’t have to do that.” She finally says to the girl. 

   “Don’t,” Lexa says, carefully scanning over the crowd, “he knew his punishment and he did it anyway.”

   “It was torture Lexa.”

   “I know how to lead my people,” she replies without looking at her. 

   “He was suffering.” 

   “We all are,” Lexa snaps back. “He was my right hand, and now he’s gone.” She finally looks at her, green eyes bright with intensity, “it is done.” 

   Clarke takes a breath and looks at Lexa again. Really looks at her, searching for the girl she thinks she fell in love with. And then realizes there’s nothing left to say. 

   She walks back over towards Bellamy while they cut Gustus down from the tree. Knowing him, he’s probably furious she walked towards Lexa while the woman wielded a sword at her side. Clarke refuses to come closer until he meets her eyes. But when he does, there’s not a hint of animosity for her in his gaze, and she knows it’s okay. She retakes her place at his side. When she reaches him he hooks an arm around her back and squeezes her tightly. She’s grateful for the support and let’s herself hug him back, resting her head on his bicep.

     Suddenly, guards are at their sides again and they snatch Bellamy away from her. 

    “Did you not heed my warning?” Lexa says. 

     “Let him go!” Clarke screams at Lexa. 

    “After what you just saw, you’re still willing to touch her?” Lexa almost growls, ignoring Clarke.

   “He’s allowed to touch me!” 

   “Why do you say that? What’s so different about him?” Lexa asks.

   Clarke is acutely aware of the audience of Grounders and Bellamy’s team around them.  But she still says it anyway, “he’s my boyfriend.” 

   Lexa furrows her brow until two lines form in between them. “I thought that was just tabloid gossip.” She looks back to Bellamy, who is no longer fighting. 

   “Nope, I’ve seen them make out-it’s really gross!” Octavia declares from behind her. In a different circumstance it would make her smile. 

   “It’s not. So I’m asking, Lexa, can you please let him go?”

   “You don’t love him,” Lexa says. 

   “What?”

   “I’ve seen what you’re like when you’re in love, and it’s not what you have with him.” 

   “You have no idea what I’m like when I’m in love,” Clarke says. She continues to stare at Lexa until the green eyed girl looks away. 

   Lexa looks to her guards and nods at them. They release Bellamy and in an instant Clarke runs over to fling herself in his arms. He catches her with the firmest grasp she’s ever felt. 

   She leaves his arms after a few seconds and looks back around at Lexa, who stands just how she imagined she would. Slightly defeated, but not in a way anyone else would notice. 

   Lexa turns to walk away, and she watches her go.

   "I wonder if we're still invited to breakfast," Monty mumbles.

 

* * *

  

   They have to get out of this camp. 

   And Bellamy needs to find a way how.

   The team huddled into Clarke’s barrack after the gruesome scene with the Grounder who dared disobey his leader. Although, he had it coming for touching Clarke like that. He hates that he sort of agrees with a monster like Lexa. 

   Now he sits next to Clarke, the President’s, on her bed in a terrorist camp. His head hangs low. He knows he needs to find a way to get her out of here.

   “Hey O?” Bellamy asks his sister without much of a second thought. 

   “Hmm?” She responds, peeling her eyes off of the roaring fire inside the iron fireplace. 

   “Let’s go on patrol.”

   She squints her eyes and flashes a confused look. “You sure?”

   He nods.

   “Alright, I’m game,” she says, standing up and grabbing her jacket from behind Monty. Lincoln gives her hand a squeeze as she passes him. 

   Clarke opens her mouth as if she has something to say but promptly shuts it. 

   “Murphy,” Bellamy barks. 

   He sits up straighter on the floor. “Yes?”

   “You’re in charge of Clarke until I get back.” 

    “I should’ve stayed home with Miller,” Murphy mutters.

   “John,” Bellamy’s voice commands, “just say you’ll fucking watch her.” 

   “Of course I’m going to watch her man I’m just bored. And you know I hate being called John,” he says, falling back into his slump on the ground.

    He almost fights back at Murphy’s tone but decides against it.

   “You ready?” Octavia asks. 

   He nods and they head out the door. 

 

—————————

 

   “I can’t believe she did that,” Octavia whispers to Bellamy as they walk scoping the camp. Even though he suggested the excavation, he still finds himself checking over his shoulder every few seconds, back towards Clarke. 

    She’s stayed closer to him since declaring they’re together, even without any Grounders around. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was doing more than playing a part. But right now, he’s not sure what she’s capable of. And that’s maybe why scares him the most about being here. 

   He’s not sure which part, or girl, she’s even referring to. The fact that Lexa killed her own guard or the fact Clarke said she’s his girlfriend. He and Clarke walked back into her barrack after the event, neither one hungry for breakfast. They sat next to each other on her makeshift bed without speaking, but somehow he could sense it was what she needed. He knows that feeling well, needing to know you're not alone in the world. 

   “So I guess my big brother finally has a girlfriend,” she says with a smile. 

   He has no idea how Octavia can stomach gore so well. Everyone else was visibly shaken by the murder that occurred earlier today. 

   “You didn’t have to go into detail like that, O.”

    Octavia shrugs, "you're probably right, but she believed it." 

    His mouth forms a thin line. She probably did believe it, and that’s another reason why they have to get out now. 

   “Has Monty found anything yet?” Octavia asks in a low voice. 

   He shakes his head. 

    “Great,” she says, rolling her eyes.

    “I don’t think we’re going to,” Bellamy adds.

    “Give him another day, Bell.”

    He looks at her, and she sighs. 

    “That’s why you asked me to come with you? So we could find an escape? You should’ve taken Lincoln, he knows their set up better.” 

    “But you’re more resourceful.”

    Octavia rolls her eyes but smiles slightly, “wow thanks.” 

    She knows he’s right, the girl managed to find her way in, and out, of every sticky situation growing up. Not a mark left on her permanent record. 

    They wind up around, behind, and through paths and trees. He’s got to find an exit. He’s checking a potential trail behind a holly bush when he hears his sister stop walking.

   “Hey Bell,” Octavia says, calmly, but it’s strained.

   He whips his head and body around. His eyes go wide. 

   They’ve got Octavia. A knife to her neck is held by some face tattooed Grounder. 

   “What do you want?!” Bellamy shouts.

   He doesn’t say anything, and Bellamy and Octavia hold eye contact until he breaks it. Acutely aware of a person walking up in the distance. 

   It’s Lexa.

   “Hello Bellamy,” she says, annunciating every syllable.

    “What do you want?” He repeats the question with less bark.

    “We want the same things. We both want Clarke safe.”

   “And how do you think she’s safe here?” 

   “We know things. Things you couldn’t possibly know. And taking her out of this camp without my knowledge is impossible.” 

   He wants to fight, he wants her dead. If not just for Clarke, now for Octavia. A knife has stayed at her throat this whole exchange. 

   “But why did you come to speak with me?” He asks.

   She straightens her neck. “A few reasons,” she says. He’s about to ask what the hell that means when she speaks again. “Is it true?” 

   He presses his lips together before parting them again. “Yes,” he almost whispers. 

   Although he and Clarke aren’t ‘together’ like they say they are, he cares about her. He can play that part well because it’s true. He silently prays his eyes do all the convincing.

   Lexa nods before bowing her head. She takes a deep breath and meets his eyes again. 

   “There’s something I want to show you. Both of you,” she says looking back to Octavia. 

   She snarls at Lexa. Bellamy holds back his horror. Octavia just watched Lexa kill a man only a few hours ago and she’s already pushing her.

   To his surprise, Lexa nods and the Grounder lowers the knife. But Octavia moves to quickly and he grabs her again.

   “Oh come on, Lou, you know I’m not leaving.” Octavia says, glaring at the tattooed man.  

   He rolls his eyes and pushes her away. 

   She holds her bad arm and marches back to Bellamy.

   “This way,” Lexa says, a fair distance away from them. 

   The siblings exchange a glance and follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so, I rewrote this chapter like 5 times until I decided I was where I wanted to be without oversharing. Sorry it took so long! But I do hope you like it. I'm loving developing these relationships.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading. Let me know what you think!  
> You can check me out at my tumblr here: [hundreddollarlarry.tumblr.com](http://hundreddollarlarry.tumblr.com/)


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